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sailoryooons · 1 year

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Lights | Episode 1 | jjk (m)

❀ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer! F. reader

❀ Summary: Meeting Jungkook was a chance of fate. A moment frozen in time, eyes meeting across a room full of lights. The more the two of you advance in your career, the more lost in the lights you become. What if you never find your way back?

❀ Word Count: 15,069

❀ Genre: Heavy angst, Idolverse, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Discussions of manipulation in the music industry, there are gentle hints at the potential for Jungkook and reader to be addicts, general topics of competitiveness between kids growing up, recreational drinking, references to people using sex as advantage, allusions to topics of promiscuity, recreational drug use (weed), reader’s agent straight up trying to get her to have sexual relations with people, implications of using people, reader is aggressively goal-oriented, Jungkook and reader are a little naive and sort of love-at-first-sighting, explicit language, explicit sexual content, three sex scenes, sex in a public place (restaurant bathroom), oral (m. and f. receiving), spit play, spit in general, light degradation, rough sex, sex under the influence of alcohol (both are able to consent and want it), Jungkook drives after drinking (not implied or referenced that he’s drunk but he is driving after having glasses of wine), nipple play, vaginal fingering, reverse cowgirl, ass play (f. receiving), missionary, fucking from the side, a little bit of come play, voyeurism if you squint, a hint of possessiveness, literally so many bodily fluids like a ton, reader kind of being in something like subspace and being fucked stupid/to sleep basically, aftercare referenced, implied toxic relationships with past coworkers/current coworkers, references to vicious/toxic work industry, light depictions of cocaine use (not explicitly seen) by a side character, honestly Jungkook and reader are a lil cringe in this and moving very fast but they have addictive personalities idk what to tell you, there are hints to their addictive personalities, talk about social anxiety needing medication/alcohol to take the edge off (not good to do people!!!), very light hinting at traits that will be a problem

❀ Published: October 6, 2023

❀ A/N: This might be the most gratuitous thing I have ever written - it actually might be too much sex? At what point is it too much and just too much come and kissing and the word c*ck, genuinely? Anyway, my goal with this chapter wasn’t so much plot as it was to introduce how volatile these two have the potential to be. If you’ve ever known someone who has struggled with addiction, you will notice the little innocent behaviors that have the potential for utter disaster. These are two people who are wildly native and very much think they are in control of their life, but who are a little reckless. It will seem like they get together fast because they do with like.. Very little regard for anything else. I really hope you enjoy this story. I think it will become sort of a little thing for me to put parts of past traumas I have into it to finally let them go, maybe! Also - I am using the western naming pattern in this with first name last name because of the ambiguity of where this story takes place. ❀ A/N 2: This story was originally named ‘Hiraeth’ but after chatting with a kind anon, I realized that the definition and translation of the word did not fit and lost cultural context from its original meaning and thus changed the title to Lights. Thank you @here2bbtstrash for the loyal beta read and @gimmethatagustd for helping me get VERY unstuck multiple times by letting me talk in circles and offering words of wisdom.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This series does not attempt to paint a realistic depiction of idols, or the industry, or draw comparisons. None of the scenes or elements in this series in any way reflect how I perceive the music industry and do not represent any opinions. This is not intellectual commentary, it is just straight-up fiction.

Jungkook looks like sin. It’s the first thought you have as you pause at the bottom of the stairs, eyes nearly blinded by the twinkling lights above. But there he is, standing in the glow of flashing purples and pinks, looking right at you.

He’s standing at one of the booths on the far end of the club, which has been rented for an event that you don’t remember the details of. His eyes land on you, and though you’ve never met, you suddenly feel a connection snap into place, something magnetic. For a moment, everything goes quiet, like in those romance books you used to read when you were a teenager.

Before, it used to seem a little silly. You didn’t think it was possible to suddenly see no one else in a room full of people except one person.

Now, it doesn’t seem that preposterous. You’re only able to take in a fraction of information in the second that your eyes connect with his: round face, long, wavy hair, and an arm full of tattoos with a drink held in his hand.

He is stunning. You already knew that from the other two times you’ve caught a flash of him at events, but every time you see him in person, you’re awed all over again by the effortless way he catches the eye.

The tension between the two of you breaks as someone knocks into you and you stumble, trying not to twist your ankle with the high heels you’re currently wearing. Too short to see over the rest of the crowd, you lose sight of Jungkook. Music comes rushing back to you, the vibration of the base and the hum of synth making it nearly impossible to hear what your agent says next to you.

“What?”

“Do you remember the list I gave you?” Mila demands, grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd. It hurts a little as she drags you along, impatient after arriving at the event late because you had a problem with your wardrobe for the evening. “That list is imperative.”

“Yes.”

The list is impossible. You have memorized at least two dozen people that your agent expects you to talk to and rub elbows with tonight. Some of them are certainly doable - people at your own company, artists you’re familiar with. Others are ridiculous, including idols that are several calibers above your station as a newly promoted producer at ILIA.

Sure, you have the new glow of recent popularity after some surprising award wins and being likable on social media - which matters to your company as much as producing award-winning records - but you know what they all think. You know that they think your parents paid someone or that you fucked your way out of being a junior producer.

It helps that neither is true. It doesn’t help that you would have done it anyway, if it meant feeding the simmering hunger inside of you that never seems to fade, your desire to win outweighing everything else.

“You should catch up with your old friend Luna, she should be easy. You trained with her in the early building stages of ILIA.”

“Yeah,” you mutter faintly. “I remember her.”

You remember almost all of them. Something about spending your formative years with a bunch of teenagers being pitted against one another to be the best has made their faces and names permanent. Even the ones who didn’t make the cut or quit on their own.

Quitting is a foreign concept to you. It’s not as foreign as Mila kissing the cheek of some manager at some company you don’t know, pushing you toward them. You don’t care about who he is. There’s nothing he can offer you if he’s not someone who makes music. And as far as you’re concerned, you’re under the careful and powerful tutelage of the Suga.

Yoongi is a better connection than almost everyone in this building and you know it.

Suddenly you regret turning down his offer to stay at the studio and work. Yoongi has the agency to say no to scheming agents and public relations teams. He’s already paid his way to be able to do whatever he wants. Specifically, he’s paid in manipulation, blood, sweat, tears, and drama.

You are fresh meat swimming alone in shark-filled waters. Still, you look people in the eye as you shake hands and force smiles all night, going through your mental rolodex of names and achievements. You exchange phone numbers with a few actresses, promising to get drinks. You’re sure they wouldn’t want to if you weren’t fresh off an award-season win. Still, it’s something.

You spot Jimin in the crowd, feeling relief as you step up toward the series of booths that you spotted Jungkook near earlier.

“Finally someone tolerable,” Jimin yells when he sees you, tossing back the rest of his champagne. He has kohl smudged around his eyes, making his gaze far more intense as he gives you a once-over. “You look ravishing. Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on the offer to come home with me?”

It would be a lie to say you both haven’t flirted with the idea. There’s something genuine in your friendship, though. Something difficult to find, a twin-flame soul that you’d be hard-pressed to ruin for a bit of publicity. Even if Jimin is the most divine creature you’ve ever laid eyes on.

It’s out of the question, though. Jimin has become your safehaven in a house of cards world.

Looking him up and down, you let out a long whistle. His hair is freshly dyed bubblegum pink, glittering earrings looped through his ears that scatter the light. Tight black pants with a designer belt and a silk shirt tucked into the waist make him look elegant, the textured Chanel blazer cut perfectly to his narrow frame.

“Honestly, Mila doesn’t care whether we fuck or not. She still sells that rumor to the press. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. ”

Jimin makes a face at your agent's name. He glances over to where she’s talking up someone from X Entertainment. “She’s a fucking snake.”

“Well, she’s the snake assigned to me. It’s not like I picked her. As soon as they saw me as marketable, there she was hissing at my door and telling me I have to get in glam to wipe my ass.”

“So bite back. I know you have it in you.” You grimace and reach for a glass of champagne from a tray as it passes you. Jimin sighs as he looks you up and down. “I know you have fangs, little monster.”

You sip the champagne and make a face. It is far too sweet, fizzing on your tongue. “A dragon does not kill the sheep because it feels threatened. It kills when it pleases.”

“My girl. Let’s go around the room, shall we? I want to keep those rumors going.”

With a laugh, you take his hand and let him lead you around the room, passing Mila who grins at you as you go. You try not to leer at her, irritated with her obsession with your relationship with Jimin. When she first noticed that you and Jimin hit it off, she surprised you with an entirely new designer lingerie line. Just because, she had said. A girl should feel powerful and sexy.

After a few attempts, Mila has finally learned you’re not a dumb little lamb. You’ll take her advice when you want it, but you refuse to let it be at the expense of the single person you trust outside of Yoongi, though Yoongi does not entirely count. As your mentor and senior, he would be horrified to hear you call him a friend.

After nearly an hour of fake smiles, forced laughter, and far too much champagne, you’re tired and buzzed. You’ve talked to at least ten people on Mila’s long list of celebrities, execs, investors, and influencers that she’s pushed onto you. Another member of that list is standing a few feet away from you, laughing loudly at something Jimin says as she puts her manicured hand on his arm.

As you contemplate whether or not you should bite the bullet and risk saying hello to Luna, someone behind you says, “She hates you. I think she still holds it against you that you got a producer deal without debuting.”

Whirling around to identify the voice, you stop short. Jungkook Jeon stares down at you, his eyes just as dark and alluring as they were earlier when you made brief eye contact from across the room. This close, he is taller than you expect. His skin-tight white shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, showing the defined muscles of his stomach and chest, and his perfect, tapered waist.

It’s a face you’re familiar with, pasted across fashion campaigns and media outlets as he talks about his new single. Your heart is pounding as you drink him in. Soft lips, round cheekbones, and gentle eyes that darken considerably when he watches you look him over.

“Yeah,” you say back, swallowing the rest of your champagne. The carbonation catches you by surprise, making you cough as you swallow the sweet liquid the wrong way.

He laughs and takes the flute away from you, sticking it on a tray as a server passes by. “Bad swallower?” Instead of answering him, you put one hand on your chest as you cough and the other on his arm, steadying yourself as you lean over and cough, clearing your throat. “Damn, Mozart. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. You remove your hand from his arm and ask, “Mozart?”

“Don’t you do all that composing and shit?”

“I do that producing and shit, yeah.”

“It’s about the same. You’re Min’s prodigy, which means you’re Mozart. And he’s Haydn.”

“I’m sorry, you know the names of classical composers?”

He smirks. “I know your name.”

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

It’s a lie. You both know it is, and the grin that spreads across his face is downright devilish as he sticks his hand out. “Jungkook,” he says. You shake his hand, admiring his tattoos. And his fingers. But mostly his tattoos. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is mine.”

“I would love to make that come true.”

You raise a brow. “Is this how most of your conversations go? Telling people that others hate them, name-dropping classical musicians, and making sexual innuendos?”

“Honestly? No, but I am having a great time. I will, however, drop the innuendos if they’re not your style.”

You smile. “I didn’t say that.”

His answering smile makes your stomach flip. “Want to get a drink?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me about all these people who hate me?”

“This is my promise to you that I will only ever be honest with you. So yes.”

You gesture toward the bar. “Lead the way, then.”

Bodies press against you as the two of you snake through the crowd. Jungkook turns a few times to check on you and flashes you a quick smile to reassure him that you’re okay. It’s cute, you think. You don’t know much about him, but you’re impressed thus far.

And perhaps a little intimidated by his star power and reputation.

At the bar, the crowd pushes you closer, knocking your arm into his. He steadies you, keeping his hand on your elbow. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka soda!” you shout back to him. He nods and leans against the bar, giving your order to the bartender. Jungkook draws attention like moths to a flame, people looking at him and whispering behind manicured hands. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

You narrow your eyes as he waits on the drinks, one elbow propped on the bar, his other hand still on your arm. He bites his bottom lip, staring at you. “One might try and say you have something up your sleeve.”

“Nope, just my heart on my sleeve. You’re cute and I’ve heard nice things about you from Jimin. We grew up together.”

“Wait, really?”

That is a surprise to you. Jimin has never mentioned growing up with Jungkook or being remotely friendly of the sort. You frown as you think about it, wondering if Jimin left it out for a reason or felt that it was an unimportant fact.

“Mhmm.” Jungkook hands you a drink, the glass already sweating from the humidity of the club. “What, Jimin doesn’t brag about me?”

“We don’t gossip about people in the industry.”

Carefully, the two of you navigate back toward your section. Jungkook finds an empty booth and slides in, patting the seat next to him. You sit down and lean back, kicking your legs out in front of you and crossing them at the ankle. Your dress is short but remains modest, enough to keep people guessing. You take a sip of your drink, the burn making you hiss.

“I so rarely see you at events,” Jungkook says after a sip of his dark drink. “I’ve wanted to introduce myself for a while and then you came in and it was like we had a moment.”

“You mean you wanted it to be a moment.”

“Maybe I did.” He smiles. “So where have you been hiding?”

“Legend of Zelda isn’t going to play itself. I come to the events I feel like are worth it.”

Actually, you come to whatever Mila drags you to. Jungkook doesn’t need to know how most of your time is spent in a music studio with the caffeine shakes trying to perfect songs to make sure you don’t get tossed out on the street.

He narrows his eyes. “Tears of the Kingdom?”

“Obviously. I’ve been building weapons of mass destruction for days.”

Jungkook tilts his head back and laughs. “What other games do you like, Mozart?”

Talking to Jungkook is a pleasant surprise. He isn’t at all what social media makes him out to be. You find he’s incredibly kind, certainly flirty, but also wildly endearing. You feel a little guilty at assuming his veneer would be thin and made of plastic like the rest.

It certainly doesn’t feel like you’re talking to someone who went number one on Billboard the week prior. Jungkook doesn’t talk about other people he knows or ask about work. He flits through topics like a curious bird, quizzing your interests, scrunching his nose, and pouting when you say something he doesn’t like.

It’s cute. He’s cute, and you’d be lying if you said that the longer you sat next to him, you haven’t started to think about what it would be like to taste him. Even if he moves on the next day like his reputation has led you to believe.

But… there’s something there. A spark, though perhaps a trick of the lights.

“You want me to what?” you ask, lowering your voice as you lean into Mila’s ear.

A raucous chorus of Happy Birthday is being poorly sung on the dance floor. You hadn’t even realized this event was for someone’s birthday, and you have half a mind to ask who the hell you should be wishing a happy day of birth to, but Mila is bitching you out in front of the building’s restrooms.

Even tucked away in the hall outside of the bathroom, you speak in hushed tones, worried someone will overhear her scheming. She looks down her beaky nose at you, eyes like an eagle. “Fuck him,” she repeats slowly, drawing out the syllables like you’re a toddler. “He’s into you and it would be great for publicity.”

“I’m sorry, but since when do you dictate my sex life?”

Not only are you a little too buzzed to have this conversation, but the very implication that your agent thinks she can make you fuck Jungkook is hilarious enough to have you start giggling hysterically. Mila watches you with narrowed eyes as you cover your mouth, laughing behind your hands.

“You are not a naive little girl,” Mila hisses at you. “He wants to fuck you, so let him. He’s attractive, he has influence, and he’s with one of the big four companies. It would be good press.”

“You and the fucking press, you’re obsessed!”

“No, I’m right. My job is to be right and to tell you what to do, and right now I’m telling you that Jungkook is already known for sticking his dick in anything he can. He’s been staring at you all night. You’d be doing yourself a favor.”

You take a step back from her and hold up your hand. “If I fuck him, it’s because he’s hot and I want to. Not to play political chess for you, understood?”

“In my experience, you either become interesting or watch your career fade. Your time of being interesting is ticking. Your call. I’m getting out of here. Do what you want, like you always do.”

What Mila says hurts but you refuse to let it show, holding out a hand to gesture the way out of the hall. She walks by you brusquely, sweeping her blunt, black hair over her shoulder as she goes. You stand in the dark, the door to the bathrooms opening and closing, flashing bright light and then leaving you in with colors pulsing in front of you as your eyes try to readjust every few seconds.

A loud group of girls startle you as they stumble out of the bathroom, laughing raucously. They’re a tangle of legs and heels and sweet-smelling perfume, nearly running you over as they sway, a collective mass of bodies. They look exactly like the women you cut out of magazines and pasted in your journal as a kid, dragging your finger over the pretty dresses and the designer names listed in the captions.

Luna stops short when she sees you, straightening and brushing her freshly dyed silver hair out of her face. She is cherubic and beautiful, her round cheeks flushing naturally and doll mouth always rosebud pink. You feel trepidation as she regards you, the girls in her group hanging back a bit as she assesses you.

“How are you?” she questions, settling on polite while flashing you a pointed smile and holding out her arms.

Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake.

You feel a flicker of anger at yourself as you let her pull you into a hug, resentful that you must play this game. She smells like vodka and vanilla, and when she pulls away, you see the barest hint of white on her nose. You brush your finger back and forth on your nostril.

“Oh.” She wipes it off with the back of her hand, giving a short, shallow sniff. “Thanks.”

“You look nice,” you offer stiffly. Your tongue is heavy from drinking and you scramble for compliments to say, even if they aren’t true. “I like your new song.”

“Thanks! I have the best producers and writers available out there. They really know exactly what they’re doing.”

You feel the strain in your smile tighten. Moves and counter moves. “That’s good.”

“My team is great. I’m so thankful I had the opportunity to be with S3vn.”

Luna’s voice is polite. Happy, even. But you hear the double meaning in her words. Remember the way she cut your hair before a major review day when you were sixteen. She’s become better at being mean in a nice way. And you have become better at being unaffected, knowing it is her least favorite response.

“It’s nice to see you, Luna.”

Her smile drops when you don’t get upset. You turn and leave the hallway, palms sweaty and head spinning. Swallowing thickly, you wipe your hands on your exposed thighs and walk back to where Jungkook is sitting, surprised to see Jimin has joined him. He narrows his eyes as you approach, but his expression is overall unreadable.

You sit back down silently on the other side of Jimin, staring off into space. The room feels like it’s spinning. You’re toeing the line of buzzed and drunk, so you sip some water, letting yourself go silent as you absently stare into the crowd, watching the cascading lights, a little lost in them.

Jimin waves his hand back and forth in front of your face. “Are you listening?”

You blink a few times, turning to see him and Jungkook looking at you. “What?”

“Jungkook invited us to an after-party. J-Hope is having some people over.”

“Oh.”

Chewing on your lip, you let your eyes drift to Jungkook. He gives you a tentative smile, nodding his head in encouragement.

“You should come,” Jungkook encourages with a coy grin. “I’d have fun with you there.”

“Do you want to go?” you ask Jimin quietly, looking back at him. He still has a vague expression, one you can’t figure out. “I’ll only go if you do.”

“Sure,” he offers. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“So you’re Yoongi’s prodigy? No shit!” Hoseok asks, looking at you from the front seat of the van. City lights blur on the other side of the window and it’s hard to hear him over the screeching singing in the car and the blaring music. “You’re about as hard to meet as Yoongi is!”

J-Hope - Hoseok, as he has asked you to call him - gives you a bright smile. You just stare at him, shocked that he has any idea who you are. You make a mental note to thank Yoongi for even mentioning your name to him. Hoseok is an absolute powerhouse and someone you’ve followed for years. It’s a good connection.

“Told you that you’d want to meet her,” Jungkook says, voice deep.

Jungkook’s body presses against yours in the packed-tight vehicle. His hand is on top of your knee. His cologne smells like amber and sandalwood, making your eyelashes flutter as you breathe in. You lay your head back against the headrest of the seat, letting it roll to the side a little to test his reaction when you place your head on his shoulder.

He turns his head toward you, his breath fanning against your forehead. You smell his mint gum. If you look up at him right now, your mouths would be close enough to kiss. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi.”

“You have pretty eyes.”

“I grew them myself.”

Jungkook’s laughter is abrupt. You grin at his mirth. He has a cute laugh, totally at odds with the edgy tattoos and the way he carries himself. The paradox intrigues you.

“That wasn’t very smooth, was it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s honest. I like it. Your reactions are probably the most genuine thing I’ve seen all night. I like genuine.”

“There’s not a lot of that to go around.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad we locked eyes from across the room.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, The Lonely Island.”

Hoseok lives in a luxurious apartment on the east side of the city. The entrance is private in a parking garage, away from wandering eyes. Everyone piles out of the car and when you slide to exit, you find a tattooed hand waiting to help you out.

Grinning, you take Jungkook’s hand. Your fingers tingle where they’re interlocked with his, warmth spreading across your palms. Once you’re out of the car, you start to let go. Jungkook squeezes his fingers tighter, urging you to look up at him. There’s a question in his eyes, gaze flicking down to where your hands are clasped.

A small grin lights up your face and you squeeze his hand back. He leads you toward the elevator, swinging your hands back and forth. You know this game well: Jungkook is priming you. The hand-holding, the compliments, and the staying near you all night are all his signals to you that he wants you to go home with him.

You want that too, but you also don’t want it to come easy. It’s a risk to make him work harder for it, but you want to see if he will..

“Cute,” Jimin mutters, raising a brow as he walks next to you.

Hoseok’s apartment is a dream. It makes sense for someone with as many writing and choreography credits across the industry as him, in addition to having two top charting albums, a clothing partnership with a popular designer, and countless brand endorsements.

It’s much nicer than the small but flashy apartment ILIA has put you in. Where your apartment feels like a model home that you can’t leave fingerprints in, Hoseok’s feels authentic. There are hand-selected pieces of art on his walls, a towering bookcase of awards and plaques, blankets and pillows thrown over the couches, books and video game controllers on the coffee table.

Someone gets control of the speaker system and starts pumping hip-hop through the two-story apartment. You navigate to the kitchen where you run into Hwasa pouring drinks. She screams when she sees you, abandoning her bartender duties and making everyone in the kitchen flinch and turn in your direction. You let go of Jungkook’s hand, casting your arms open.

“Helllooooo?!” She grips you tight, kissing your forehead and both cheeks. You laugh, immediately feeling yourself relax having seen a familiar face. The greeting is a little more than you expect, but she’s drunk and happy. You take it in stride. “I cannot believe you’re here and with… well isn’t that new?”

“Hello, Hwasa.”

“Jeon,” she greets, narrowing her eyes. She tucks you into her arm, pointing a finger at Jungkook. “You better not fuck with this girl, understand me? She is way too cool for your bullshit.”

He rolls his eyes. “What bullshit?”

“I’m so serious. I like her.”

Hwasa lets you go and laughs it off, giving Jungkook a quick kiss on the cheek before going back to her drink-making. Jimin is nowhere in sight, having drifted off to a corner of the living room to chat with Hoseok, leaving you with Jungkook.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that,” he ventures.

“It happens.”

“Still awkward.”

“It is,” you snark. You bring your fist up to your mouth, speaking into it like you’re giving an interview. “Jungkook, how does it feel to be put on blast for your spicy endeavors right when you walk into the party?”

You hold your fist out to him, offering him the mic. “Spicy endeavors?”

“Promiscuous has negative implications and we are sex-positive here.”

“Wow, such forward-thinking media. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“You never will again, I’m afraid.”

Jungkook shakes his head and chuckles, gesturing to the drinks all over the counter. “You want a drink?”

“I do.”

With a drink in hand, you both return to the party. There’s dancing going on in a corner of the living room, a card game going on in the dining room, and a smoke session going on around the couches. Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to Jimin and another girl you don’t know.

You freeze up a little, unsure where to sit. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, reaching a hand out as he joins the conversation around the coffee table. You hesitate for a second, a little caught off guard before placing your hand in his and letting him pull you against him, leaning onto his thigh with your hips pressed together. His arm loops around the back of your thighs, hand resting on the outside of your leg. Your hand drops on his shoulder as you lean into him.

People you know stop and say hi, their eyes lingering for a long time on the way you and Jungkook lean into one another. You ignore them, content to let them wonder how it is a little producer from ILIA got her claws into Jungkook for the night.

When a weed pen is passed to Jungkook, you watch with curiosity to see what he’ll do. He takes it but looks up at you, raising his brow in question and holding it out like he’s asking for permission. You’re surprised but you nod - you don’t control what he does. It’s sweet. Surprising, but sweet.

Jungkook takes two short pulls, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction from you. The girl next to him whines, swatting at it and smacking his leg, giggling. You pay it no mind, unworried about the flirting. He’s not yours, and even if he was, it’s your waist he has pressed against him.

Jungkook holds the pen up to you and you make a face. “I don’t know whose mouth has been on that.”

He snorts. “Alright, Mozart. I have my own. Would you prefer that?”

“Yes, I would.”

Rolling his eyes but smiling, he passes it over to someone else and stands, your hand falling from his shoulder. “Come on, brat. We’ll go to the balcony so we don’t have to share.”

“Thank you, that’s what I deserve.”

He giggles. “You can’t even say that with a straight face.”

“Imagine if I meant it.”

Jungkook navigates the apartment easily. You follow him, not unaware of the gazes and whispers that pass. You lift your chin. Let them talk. The only opinions that matter to you are those of your bosses, Yoongi, Jimin, and occasionally your mother on a good day.

Right now, nothing else matters.

It’s cold outside. You shiver while Jungkook shuts the sliding glass door to the balcony just off the bedroom. Light floods in from the hallway into the room, casting a golden glow behind you. Jungkook leans on the railing, pulling a weed pen from his pocket and waving it in front of you like a prize.

You snatch it from him, sticking your tongue out. Bringing it to your lips, you suck gently on the tip, filling your mouth with acrid smoke as you inhale. It burns a little, making your eyes water as you let the air and remaining smoke out before passing it back to Jungkook. He echos your movements.

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the city. It is dazzling from this high up, a home made for a god to watch over their creation. Silence hangs between you, occasionally passing the pen back and forth. The wind feels good, though a little cold. And you appreciate how quiet it is, the sounds of the party muted through the windows.

Down below, the street looks mostly empty. It’s so far down that you’re not really sure. Your high starts to hit, dulling the edges of everything and making you feel a little soft and floating. You grip the railing a little tighter, looking at Jungkook from the corner of your eye.

Fuck if he isn’t beautiful.

“What?” he asks, a smile in his voice as he side-eyes you. “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Nothing.”

“Mm. Not nothing. What?”

“You’re not what I expected. It’s a really nice change of pace.”

“Ah,” he answers, ducking his head. You grin, realizing that he’s blushing and trying to hide it. You poke his arm, laughing as you prod at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy.”

“You? Shy?”

“Oh yeah. I am a mess around people. I might seem good at it, but it takes champagne and sometimes a Xanax to get me to operate at a level that’s normal with everyone else.”

“And then do you stay up all night re-thinking every single interaction you had and punishing yourself like why the fuck did I say this very weird thing?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, frowning and tilting his head up toward the sky. “It is exhausting. Sometimes I’m so worried I’m going to embarrass myself that I skip an event altogether and take the fucking verbal beating from the company.”

“Ugh, Mila would fit right in.”

“She’s kind of a snake, huh?”

You hum. “Jimin called her exactly that earlier tonight.”

“My agent hates her. Says she’s a total control freak and vicious.” You snort. That is an understatement. “Makes her successful, though. She has some of the world's biggest names under her.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t choose her. She was assigned to me. Honestly, I don’t think she thought I had any potential to bring her success and be a household name until I won that award for producing Hwasa’s song.”

“It was a good song.”

You smile distantly, looking out at the hazy lights of the city. Everything feels a little slow and dreamy, your thoughts fluid. “I liked it. I want to do better - be better. A lot of it’s about connections though and I… am not great at that part.”

“I think you’re doing pretty okay.”

Jungkook shifts closer. He’s turned to you, so near that you’re almost touching. He looks down at you through long lashes, watching for your reaction. You look up at him, a little starry eyed and dizzy at his proximity. This close, you can see the freckle just under his mouth. You want to kiss him, but you hold back, feeling your insecurity worm its way in.

“Yeah?” you ask, a little breathy. “Are you saying there’s a connection here?”

“Uh-huh.” He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He reaches a hand forward and brushes the underside of your chin, tilting your face up toward him even more. “Come home with me.”

The breath leaves your lungs. You’re not surprised that he’s asked, and yet your body still reacts, adrenaline taking over. His gaze is hungry as he watches you, waiting for your response, finger still propped under your chin like he might kiss you.

“Take me on a date,” you assert. Perhaps it's the drinks and the weed that makes you so bold, but you want more than anyone else has had from him. You want to be different. “Dinner.”

He tries to fight a smile, tonguing the inside of his cheek. The action is wildly attractive for some reason, nearly making you waver and let him take you home now. “Do you like Italian?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

“The day after. I’m busy tomorrow with work.”

He narrows his eyes. “Damn. Gonna make me wait in agony, huh?”

You grin. “I’m worth waiting for.”

“You very much are. Day after tomorrow at eight. Wear something nice.”

“Fine. Wear those necklaces you wore for your Vogue shoot.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh?” Jungkook purrs. “You like the necklaces?”

“I like to imagine what they look like dangling above my face.”

He shakes his head. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

“Good. The day after tomorrow.” You take a step back, a wicked grin on your face. He drops his hand, staring you down. “Don’t be late.”

Jungkook isn’t late and you wish that he was. Cursing over and over again, you pull the knee-high boot up your leg, thankful for the supple, flexible leather that fits your calf. You nearly fall over tugging on the next, finally getting your boots on and standing up straight in front of your mirror out of breath and flustered.

The outfits had not gone according to plan. Something about going on a date with Jungkook has you feeling all out of sorts, going through enough outfits that your bed is now covered in them. You refused to tell Mila that you were going on the date, knowing that if she caught wind of it, she’d send paparazzi. As it is, Jungkook has assured you he’s gone through the hoops for a private dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant near the river.

Turning in the mirror, you decide that the short, black dress over sheer black pantyhose paired with platform boots and a long, black peacoat will have to do. Grabbing your phone, you text Jungkook back quickly that you’re coming downstairs, apologizing for the delay.

Jungkook: Like you said, you’re worth waiting for.

Me: Oh, I can take longer…

Jungkook: Don’t make me come up there.

Jungkook: Actually, on second thought, make me come up there.

As you pass your kitchen, you double back and run to the alcohol cabinet, pulling a bottle of tequila down quickly to shoot back a quick swig. It burns your throat, making you cough and squeeze your eyes shut as you hack for a moment, corking the bottle and gasping for air.

At least it will take the edge off.

Wiping the traces from your chin, you rush out of your apartment, letting the tequila burn its way through you to set the first layer of calm. In the elevator, you take in a slow, deep breath for five seconds. Exhale for five seconds. Inhale for five seconds.

The elevator dings, making you flinch. Clutching your purse to steady your trembling hands, you step out onto the ground floor of the parking garage where you find Jungkook parked illegally and leaning on the side of the vehicle.

Slowing your steps, you appreciate the boy and then the car. Jungkook is dressed in black slacks with a belt at the waist and a black, tight-fitted turtleneck. The material of the shirt forms to his body, showing his defined arms and toned chest.

Jungkook’s hair is slicked back, a single dangling earring on his left lobe paired with the rest of his signature hoops. You have no idea how a single piece of jewelry changes everything about his energy, but your heart rate skyrockets as you approach him, a little shy.

He lets out a low, slow whistle. “Fuck. You are a knockout.”

“You look pretty good yourself.”

“Nah, Mozart. You look…” He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck, laughing a little. “You’re gonna fucking wreck me.”

A nervous laugh escapes you and you chew the inside of your cheek as you stop in front of him, hands crossed in front of you. He pushes off the car, which is a sleek Porsche, and sticks his hand out to you. Tentatively, you place your hand in his.

Leaning forward, Jungkook places a kiss on your cheek. Your lashes flutter, skin warm. He pulls away with a small smile. “You look beautiful. I mean it.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“No kidding, I feel like my heart is about to come out of my chest.”

He’s going to be the death of you. It’s endearing, how honest he is, letting what he’s thinking pour out of his mouth. You’re unsure if it’s part of his game or if it’s genuine, and it puts you a little on edge, trying to guess what’s going through his mind.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Jungkook escorts you around the car and opens the passenger. The interior of the car smells clean and is lined with white LED lights and red leather seats. You raise your brows as you slide inside, your coat protecting you from the cold leather.

Jungkook closes your door and rounds the back, slipping into the driver’s side. He turns to you, tilting his head to the side. You fiddle with the buttons on your coat. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he says, sounding breathless. “Kiss me so we don’t have to be nervous anymore.”

“You just want me to kiss you.”

Jungkook puts his elbow on the center console and leans forward. He looks down his nose at you, eyes focused on your mouth. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to fight a shiver of adrenaline threatening to take over. “So what?”

“Ask me nicely,” you murmur, leaning toward him. You look him in the eye, trying to still your hummingbird heart. This close, you see the flecks of gold in his irises, swirls of brown and caramel. They’re beautiful, framed by silky lashes. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Please kiss me.”

“Hmm?”

“I am begging you to kiss me.”

“Almost…”

“I need you to kiss me.”

So you do.

Jungkook’s mouth is soft. He laughs in surprise but leans into the kiss, slotting his mouth against yours firmly. It’s innocent and sweet, just a gentle brush of lips. You pull away, noses bumping against one another as he rests his forehead on yours.

It’s quiet and cold in the interior of the car, only the sound of your shallow breathing and the hum of the engine audible. Something electric courses through your veins, ignited by the feeling of his mouth against yours and you immediately want more. You’ve never felt this sudden, carnal desire before. This need to fall into him.

For a second, you fight it. Then, you give in.

Leaning forward, you catch Jungkook’s lips in a real kiss. It’s slow at first. You catch him off guard but he’s quick to keep up, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth greedily. Dizziness makes your world spin. You press up against the center console, sliding your tongue gently against his. Jungkook reaches a hand up to your face, cradling you as he deepens the kiss.

His mouth tastes like spearmint gum. Your skin is overheating, and you suddenly feel stuffy and constricted in your jacket. Jungkook breaks the kiss, panting against your lips as he presses chaste kisses to the side of your mouth and lips.

“Did you drink tequila?” he asks, voice husky. He starts kissing your jaw and your head lolls to the side, eyelids fluttering. “Tastes like it.”

“I was nervous,” you pant, almost moaning as his tongue flicks out to lick at your skin. “So I took a shot.”

“I make you that nervous?” His teeth pull at your earlobe. You sink further into the seat, starting to turn boneless. You feel like you’re melting at the joints, abruptly unable to string together a sentence under the attention of his greedy, warm mouth. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner.”

“Oh, I am. And then we'll order ice cream, and then we’re going home.”

“Oh?”

“My home. I have necklaces to show you.”

“Fuck.”

Reluctantly, Jungkook pulls away. His lips are wet and a little dark from kissing you, his eyes wild. You watch him from where you’re sunken in the seat, a little wrecked from just kissing. You realize that Jungkook has the potential to ruin you. To crack you open and devour you.

And you let him.

Reaching across the car, you cradle his face, thumb pulling at his bottom lip, damp with your lip gloss and spit. “Pretty,” you murmur. His tongue darts out, laving across your thumb. You grin. “Dangerous.”

“Not with you.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Well, I mean it.”

“We barely know each other.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have a sense for these things.”

“Mmm.” You drop your hand from his face. “Dinner, then. And ice cream. And then home.”

Jungkook’s first lie is that he’s not dangerous with you. He nearly kills you several times on the way to dinner, leaning over at almost every stoplight to bring your mouth to his again. His mouth is addictive, each kiss intense and intended to make you fall further and further into this waking dream you’re in.

By the time the valet opens your door to a private entrance at the restaurant and helps you out, you think you might be entirely drunk on Jungkook’s kisses alone. He laces his fingers with yours, pulling you close as you walk up toward the back of the restaurant.

Inside is a dark hall, barely lit by fixtures in the ceiling casting gold light. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as Jungkook gives the host his name. To your right is a curtain with the soft hush of diners and piano music. To your left is another curtain with no sound coming through.

“Thank you for choosing us, Mr. Jeon. Right this way.”

The host bows his head slightly, guiding you to the left curtain. He pulls it open and gestures for you to enter. You step through after Jungkook, raising your brows when you realize it’s a private dining room. It looks reserved for events and parties perhaps, but the room is furnished with a single table and rich, mahogany chairs.

Velvet drapery covers the walls and a large, crystal chandelier hangs over the table. The heels of your boots click on the hardwood floors as Jungkook leads you to your seat, letting go of your hand to pull out the chair. You flash him a smile, sitting as he helps you scoot in.

He sits across from you, adjusting his shirt sleeves. Your eyes momentarily get sidetracked when you realize he has on the layered necklaces you ask for, and you grin before averting your attention to the host who instructs that the chef and the sommelier will be with you momentarily to talk about your dining options for the evening.

When he leaves, it’s just you and Jungkook with the soft sound of piano trailing from somewhere distant. You level your gaze on him, watching him watch you. The setting feels intimate, leaving you a little overwhelmed but in a good way. You’ve gone on dates, but not like this.

“What?” he questions gently. “You have a look on your face.”

“I’m just impressed, is all.”

“It only gets better from here. I have so many ideas for dates.”

“Oh? Plural?”

“Mhmm.” He leans back in his seat, tonguing his cheek. “If all goes well, anyway.”

“So far so good.”

The sommelier and the chef arrive together, hands tucked behind their backs. It’s hard to pay them much mind. Jungkook is distracting, even as he gives them his full attention, nodding along and answering their questions. He looks to you for input, but you feel a little useless, barely listening to what they’re saying.

“Trust me enough to order?” he asks, leaning over the table conspiratorially.

“Well, you’re with me, so you must have good taste. I trust you.”

His foot nudges your ankle under the table playfully. He orders a round of appetizers and wine. When the sommelier asks you to sample it, you follow Jungkook's lead, inhaling the dark red lightly. It smells strongly of cherries and something sweet, making your mouth water. The taste is lush and wonderful, pleasing to the palate.

The sommelier bows and leaves the two of you alone, vanishing behind the curtain. Jungkook lifts his wine glass to you, smiling. “Here’s to our first date and many more.”

“Cheers.”

After a sip, you set your glass down and look at Jungkook from across the table. “Was it absolutely painful, waiting for today?”

“I hardly survived, to be honest. All day yesterday I lay in bed dreaming of today.”

“Hmm. Is that all you dream about?”

His gaze darkens. “Careful, Mozart. I dream very vividly.”

Jungkook does impress you. With his knowledge about a wide variety of topics, with the charming expressions he uses as he speaks, with… him overall. He’s multifaceted in a way you rarely get to see with others, and you feel giddy as you listen to him.

Though you have a similar experience getting into music, it’s nice to hear Jungkook’s story. You keep it light, avoiding the darker parts of going through trainee programs and how competitive and hard it was to be a kid, growing up while working.

He asks you about music. Not just the music you work on, but the music you grew up listening to, your favorite genres, and the technical aspects of making music. Jungkook is intelligent and familiar with the mechanics of making records. He asks questions and nods along, interested and curious in learning.

You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation go this well, even outside of dates. When you urged Jungkook to take you on a date, you weren’t sure you’d end up liking him. Now though, as he lets you take the last stuffed mushroom because you can have whatever you want, you realize that you like him.

It is such a dangerous game to play, especially with the rumors you hear about him.

Instead of thinking about it, you enjoy dinner. You both finish the bottle of wine and he orders another. You’re feeling loose and warm, laughing more often and giving him lazy smiles. Even without the wine, you want to drag him to the bathroom and get on your knees. Now with a few glasses in, you’re thinking about it more and more.

Dinner sobers you up a little, but it doesn’t remove the heat between your legs and the growing desire to kiss him again. You think about the way his mouth moved against yours, tongue gentle and talented. Your mind wanders into places less innocent, especially after dinner comes to an end and ice cream is brought out, as promised.

Jungkook carves the spoon through the dessert, leaning forward with it held out. You smirk, leaning to meet him halfway to let him slide the ice cream into your mouth. Cold vanilla melts on your tongue. It’s good and creamy, but you hardly pay attention to the taste, eyes fastened to Jungkook’s.

“Good?” His voice is deep, soft. “I want to taste.”

You pick up your spoon, picking up a small scoop. You hold it out to him and he repeats your motion, bending to meet you. His eyes don’t leave yours as he eats it, tongue running over the bottom of his lip after to catch any extra.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, getting up abruptly. He holds his hand out to you and you place yours in his. He hoists you up and surprises you by pulling you into his chest. “We’re going.”

You lean up on your toes, stealing his lips with yours. They taste like the wine you’ve been drinking. Your mouth tingles as you kiss him and your thoughts are cottony and slow, only focused on the way he hums, leaning forward to swipe his tongue eagerly into your mouth.

The kiss turns a little messy. You’re woozy, letting him bend you backward as he steals the breath from your lungs. Jungkook is intoxicating, your hand dropping his to wrap around his neck. You thread your fingers through the waves at the nape of his neck. They’re silky soft, sliding between your fingers. You tug a little, pulling a groan low in his throat.

“Careful or I will fuck you here,” he pants, spit-slicked mouth moving against yours. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, tasting more wine. “Devil.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Jungkook pulls away from you, holding you at arm's length. You stare up at him, eyes heavy. You feel arousal pool in your stomach with the way he looks at you, his mouth wine-stained.

“That’s how you want it?” His tone is threatening. Laced with something carnal. Your stomach flutters as you nod. You’re not thinking about anything but him, not worried about anything. “Fuck.”

Without hesitation, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you across the floor. You follow him eagerly, heart hammering as Jungkook all but kicks the private bathroom door open. He yanks you inside and spins you, pushing you toward an elegant sink.

The bathroom is dark. The walls are painted black and the gold-fixtured lighting is dim. It would be romantic if Jungkook wasn’t flicking the lock behind him and advancing on you. Just as he reaches for you, you surprise him, dropping to your knees and looking up through your lashes.

He raises his brows, looking down at you, heat behind his eyes. You lift your hand to the zipper of his pants, slowly pulling it down, pausing for permission.

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmurs, nodding. “Take what you want.”

Licking your lips, you do exactly that. Your fingers are nimble as you undo the button at the top of his pants. You pull them down a little, just enough to get them out of your way. You eye the hardening outline of his cock against his briefs, breath catching.

You look up at him. “You have a huge cock, don’t you?”

He sticks out his tongue between his teeth. “Why don’t you find out, hmm?”

Leaning high up on your knees, you lick the outline of his cock, watching as he shivers. You run your tongue to the tip of his cock, stopping to mouth at it. He curses, hips twitching as you soak the fabric with your mouth, placing your hands on his thighs.

Muscles twitch under your palms. You dig your nails in and scratch upward, the fabric hissing underneath your fingers. Reaching the waistband of his briefs, you pull down agonizingly slow. Jungkook’s fingers twitch at his sides, but he lets you do what you want, breathing heavily through parted lips.

Jungkook’s cock springs out. You feel your mouth water at his thick length, already hard from the barest stimulation. Pearly beads of precum decorate the dark tip. You hum, contented as you stick your tongue out and give a quick kitten lick to the base of his shaft.

He hisses, hips twitching forward. Teasing him, you trace your tongue along a vein on the underside of his cock until you reach the tip, circling the swollen head with your tongue generously. Jungkook closes his eyes, his head falling backward.

You grip him firmly, gathering saliva in your mouth before spitting on his cock. He moans out loud and you grin, pumping him slowly while ducking under your hand to lave your tongue across his balls. He curses and a hand shoots to your head, not pushing you, but fingers pressed tight against your skull.

“Fuck, you like being a little slut?” he growls.

“Mhmm,” you answer back, pulling his cockhead into your mouth. His salty precum melts on your tongue.

Jungkook fills your mouth. You feel the stretch on the sides of your lips as you take him in properly. You let spit pool on your tongue as you slide down his cock, slurping gently as you do. It’s messy and wet and a little clumsy, the wine making you uncoordinated.

It doesn’t matter. His fingers press into your hair as you set a rhythm, bobbing your head and sucking gently while your hand pumps what you can’t fit in your mouth. Jungkook pants above you, his soft moans echoing off the tile.

The sounds he makes spur you further. Drool runs down your chin as he succumbs. You watch him through misty eyes, the crown of his cock kissing the back of your throat as you try to take him further than you can manage. You feel your throat constrict, coughing a bit as you pull off of him, twisting your wrist as you work him and gasp for air.

Spit and precum connect your lips to his cock in a thick string. It breaks when you cough, eyes stinging.

“Yeah?” he asks, gritting his teeth. “Like choking on that fucking cock?”

You run the flat of your tongue over his frenulum, making him wine. “Like hearing you moan,” you admit. The slick sound of your hand stroking him makes you squeeze your legs together. “It makes me so fucking wet.”

“Show me.”

Jungkook’s hands go to yours. He pulls you up by the wrists. Your knees feel wobbly but he holds you steady, pressing you against the counter. He steals a searing kiss from you that is more tongue than lips, hands skimming up your arms and down your sides until he’s at the hem of your dress where he pauses.

“This okay?” Your eyelids flutter open. His nose is pressed against yours, eyes steady. “We can stop whenever or if you’re too drunk.”

“I’m not.” It’s true, you’re a little drunk off the wine, but your head is clear. You know exactly what you want and your thoughts are concise. There are no hesitations and you don’t care that you’re in a bathroom, face wet with mixed fluids. “Want it.”

“Mmm.”

Jungkook slips a hand under your dress, fingers brushing over your soft thighs. It feels good, his dragging touch enticing. Your head tilts back, allowing him to press hot, wet kisses on your throat. His fingers pick at the garter belt secured to your pantyhose, making him groan.

“I wanna see these later.”

“You will.”

He licks your neck. “Good.”

You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his mouth sucking gently at your throat while his hand slides to your underwear. He presses the pads of his fingers over the silk, just enough to make your thighs close around his hand, gasping.

“You are wet.” There’s a smile in his voice. He moves his fingers in a gentle circle, applying pressure to the damp spot on your underwear. “Sucking me off did that?”

“And the ice cream.”

“Oh? Watching me eat ice cream, huh?”

“Sorry about it.”

“Don’t be.” He hooks a finger and pulls your panties to the side, touching your sticky folds properly. A moan slips out of your mouth. You can feel your heart slamming in your chest so hard you think you might have a cardiac episode. “You can watch me eat your pussy later.”

Between the implication that there is a later and thereby more after this, and the way Jungkook’s fingers slip up and down your heat, you’re a goner. It feels so good, some of the pressure between your legs relieved as he teases your clit.

Spreading your legs wider, you lean hard into the bathroom counter. It hurts where it presses against your spine but you ignore it, content to let him push you until your head hits the mirror.

Jungkook’s fingers tease your hole, leaving your cunt clenching. You whine, bringing your hands to his face to pull him off your neck and to your mouth, biting his lip playfully.

“Fuck me,” you ask between kisses, mouths smacking loudly. “Wanna feel you stretch me out.”

“Can’t even wait until we’re home?”

“You can fuck me there too.”

He laughs darkly. “Demon.”

Jungkook removes his hand from between your legs and bends at the knee, grabbing you behind the thighs. You jump lightly and he lifts you, putting you on the counter. Your dress hikes up, baring your glistening cunt to him, underwear still pulled to the side.

Balmy air kisses your skin. It’s hot in the bathroom as he cages you in, tattooed hand pumping his cock. You’re bent out of shape, spreading your legs and feeling the strain of the straps on your garner belt as you stretch them.

Reaching between your legs, you pull your underwear farther to the side, ensuring they won’t be in the way. He shakes his head, eying your heat hungrily as he runs the tip of his dick up and down your messy folds. It feels good but it’s not enough, making you squirm and whine audibly.

He tuts at you, sliding his hand up to press the head of his cock into your dripping hole. Your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure of him splitting you open as he sinks in. The stretch of him aches in pleasure-pain, your pussy opening up for every inch that he feeds you.

“Shit you’re tight,” he gasps, falling forward to rest his head on your shoulder. His back muscles strain against his shirt as he pushes in the rest of the way, bottoming out until you’re stuffed full, walls fluttering around him. “God, I could come just like this.”

“Pussy whipped?”

“Fuck, I’m gonna be.”

One of your hands goes around his neck, nails pressing into his skin. He sucks in air sharply. Your other hand drifts to his ass, grabbing him and squeezing. “Please make me come. I need it.”

Instead of answering verbally, he starts to fuck into you. It’s not a slow build or something passionate. It’s needy and heady and desperate. He sets a brutal pace and you can’t help but let out a loud moan, the shape of his name escaping you.

The feeling is addicting. You cling to him, jostling against the sink as he fucks you. The wet sound of your cunt around him is loud and lewd, backtracked by your breathy moans getting louder and higher-pitched. You feel yourself shaking, fingers digging into him as he grabs your hips, holding you down to the counter.

Jungkook’s breath fans your neck, his face buried there. He curses, occasionally biting your tender skin, making you squeal. You can feel the ghost of a smile against you, his tongue soothing your stinging flesh.

Grabbing one of your thighs, he hikes your leg higher. You slide into the sink, nearly bent in half as he changes the angle. He hits your spot on the upstroke, almost sending you into an orgasm immediately. The tension in your stomach is so tight you think you’re going to unravel.

Instead, it climbs higher and higher. You can barely breathe as he straightens to fuck you even harder. The faucet digs into your back. You don’t care, grabbing the counter as you cling to it for life, babbling. Nothing that comes out of your mouth makes any sense and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, you come. Hard.

Everything in your body locks up. You spasm around him, squeezing his cock for everything it's worth. Your orgasm is swift and powerful, taking the breath from you for a long moment before you finally manage to gasp for air, sagging against the sink.

With a few messy pumps, Jungkook comes with a loud curse, head tossed back, hips slamming yours. You can feel your release between the two of you, sticky and running down your thighs. His thrusts slow until he’s left softening inside of you.

Come leaks when he slowly pulls out. The drip is obscene but you’re too fucked out to care, looking up at him in a daze. It smells like sex in the bathroom and a light layer of sweat covers your skin.

Carefully, Jungkook tucks himself back in his pants before ripping paper towels out of the dispenser to gently wipe at your thighs. You laugh and let him take care of you, grateful that he does. He swipes one greedy finger up your pussy and pops it into his mouth, making your jaw drop.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to eat you out later.”

You chew your lip as he finishes wiping the mess from your lower half. “So there is a later, still?”

He looks dubious. “I told you that you were coming home with me.”

“I know I just thought maybe…”

“That I was gonna fuck you in a bathroom and that would be what I wanted?” You nod. “I told you, I want more dates. Something about you, Mozart. Also, you letting me fold you in half in a bathroom makes me want to drop down on one knee.”

It pleases you to hear that more than you care to admit.

With Jungkook’s help, you ease off the counter. At a glance in the mirror, you burst into hysterical laughter. Your mascara is smudged, your mouth is wet, and you look wrecked. He laughs too, caging you in and reaching around you to turn on the faucet, running the tips of his fingers underneath and bringing them up to gently wipe under your eyes.

You smile at him as he attempts to make the running makeup less noticeable. When he finishes, he turns off the faucet but remains pressed to your back, arms looped casually around you. He has a small smile, staring at you in the mirror.

“What?” you ask, laughing.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he prefaces. “But I just feel something here. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Post-nut clarity?”

He presses his pelvis into you. “No. It’s just like this really silly… I don’t know. Crush. But it just feels right.”

Surprisingly, you understand what he means. This spark you feel with him is new to you. There’s never been anyone else you feel so natural with, so immediately attracted to. Certainly not enough to throw inhibition to the wind and suck them off in a bathroom.

Something about Jungkook lights you up, a candle catching fire and burning through the wick hot and fast. People might call it reckless and immature, but you don’t know how else to explain this innate desire to jump in head-first with him.

“I feel it too.”

He kisses the back of your head. “Come on. I’m not done with you yet.”

You feel lost in the lights on the way home. Jungkook’s hand settles on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth. He’s a little subdued, focusing on the road. You don’t distract him, content to adjust the air conditioning so that it cools you off, your skin on fire from the wine and Jungkook.

The night certainly went in a direction you weren’t planning, but you don’t mind. Jungkook excites you. Perhaps it is a little rash and naive, but you don’t care, enamored by the layers of him. You want to peel back more, to dig to the core until he’s yours.

Whatever the madness is, it appears to be equal. When Jungkook pulls into the luxury apartment building known for high-profile celebrities and government officials, he’s on you again, pulling you across the car to meld your mouths together.

Dull pain blooms in your mouth, lips bruised from kissing him. You don’t care, eager to slot your tongue against his, brushing against the wet-rough feel of it.

“Come on,” he whispers, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. “Let’s go upstairs.”

It should not surprise you when Jungkook swipes a key fob and selects the penthouse apartment, but it does. It shocks you even more when the elevator opens into a four-level home. Your mouth drops open a little as you enter, Jungkook’s fingers laced with yours.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch the entire four-story home. From where you stand in the entryway, you can see multiple open-concept rooms, each ornately decorated with a modern style and neutral tones. Nothing about what you can see screams Jungkook, suggesting that his label has put him here - has the money to put him here.

The thought itself is staggering, momentarily reminding you who you just let fuck you senseless in the bathroom at an upscale restaurant. Letting Jungkook’s hand go, you wander into the main room of the apartment, stepping down into the sunken living room with large, curved couches surrounding a coffee table.

Above you, a massive glass artwork of floating lights hovers. They’re turned off, but it looks like a sculpture project most likely commissioned by a wildly expensive artist. Jungkook joins you in front of the towering windows overlooking a wide terrace. The sheer curtains do nothing to hide the twinkling lights of the city.

It gives the illusion that you’re among the stars. Jungkook leans over and presses a button on the remote. The curtains quietly begin to roll open, revealing the view in full. It is breathtaking, much more magnificent than the view from Hoseok’s apartment.

“They really pulled out all the stops for you,” you murmur, turning to look at him. He toes the carpet, twisting his mouth as he blushes. “This is insane.”

“It’s too much.”

“A little bit. But it’s cool.”

He smiles and reaches a hand out. “Let me show you the rest tomorrow after breakfast.”

You take his hand and let him pull you along toward the winding staircase. “I want waffles.”

“And in the morning, I’m making waffles!”

You both dissolve into laughter at the Shrek reference. Jungkook pulls you up the steps until you’re on the top floor, which is made up of a spacious bedroom with windows that overlook the city, an ornate bathroom you can only see the door to, what you assume is a walk-in closet, and an additional terrace with an infinity pool, firepit area, and bar.

The bedroom is more of Jungkook’s style. It’s not nearly as pristine, the sheets and blankets rumpled, all dark grey tones. There are shoes by the closet door and a shelf in the far corner with action figures and collectibles that you don’t recognize.

In the middle of the room stretches an impossibly large bed with modern sconces on either side. Medication, a glass of water, and a watch are on the nightstand next to the bed. And no signs of other suitors, you notice, but you push the thought out of your mind as Jungkook pulls you backward toward his bed, smiling.

This time you’re slower. He sits on the bed, pulling you by the waist to straddle him. Your knees sink feather-soft into the mattress on either side of him, settling yourself on his thighs as you draw him in for a kiss. You hold him gently by the jaw, fingers spread and pressing warm into his skin.

Jungkook’s hands skate around your hips to your ass, squeezing gently as your tongues dance together. Your buzz from the wine is gone now, replaced with desire burning through you, hot as a torch. It doesn’t feel needy and crazed now, but a little softer. More intimate.

Carefully, Jungkook leans backward, taking you with him. You squeal into his mouth as you land on top of him, arms giving out. You crash into his chest, though not too hard.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He places his hands on your waist and precariously rolls over, managing not to knock heads and limbs as he places you under him. His knee slots between your legs, hands leaving your waist to bracket your head. “God damn, you are beautiful.”

It’s strange. You feel beautiful - or at least, you feel desired under him. Perhaps it is not the same thing, but the way Jungkook looks at you with swollen lips and starry eyes, you feel powerful. Godly, even.

He dips back down, pressing a kiss to your mouth and one to your jaw. He leaves a wake of heat, stealing your breath away. Leaning back, you give him access to map the tender flesh of your throat and collarbones, threading your fingers through his hair.

Eyes closed, you let the world spin. His mouth is the finest delicacy, pressing kisses that are butterfly-soft all over your heated skin as he pulls the straps of your dress. You help him by slipping your arms out. He gathers the fabric and pulls down, sitting up as he does so.

Silk rolls against your skin. It’s cool in his bedroom, making you shiver as he reveals your lacy bra and matching garter. He tosses the dress, sitting high up on his knees as you lay splayed out for him.

“You know,” he ventures. “Normally I don’t like lingerie.” His fingers trace the swells of your breasts. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, goosebumps breaking out on your skin from the tantalizing touch. “But I could get used to it on you.”

“I only wear it on special occasions.”

Jungkook lowers himself, planting a wet kiss on the top of your right breast. “What’s the occasion?”

“I needed something to hold up my pantyhose.”

His laugh cools the fresh trail of spit he leaves on your skin, earning a violent shiver from you. He notices, eyes flicking up to look at you. They’re endless pools of dark, watching your every move as he slow-drags a finger up your stomach to the top of your bra. He hooks his finger over the top of the cup and pulls gently, the fabric scraping your over-sensitive nipple.

Everything he does feels overwhelmingly erotic. You watch, hypnotized and out of breath as he sticks out his tongue, circling your nipple lazily but not giving it attention directly. You let out a wavering moan, voice gone.

Oh so slowly, Jungkook flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your nipple. You bow up into him, wanting more. He tsks at you and you go flat on the bed, fisting the sheets tightly to ground yourself as he grins, delighted.

“You listen well, huh?” You nod, head heavy. You can’t think of any words, thoughts bleeding together like liquid spilled across a watercolor canvas. “Is that how you like it? Being told what to do like a good girl?”

“Yes.” You suck in a sharp breath as Jungkook scrapes his teeth generously over your nipple.

“You weren’t a very good girl when you got on your knees and swallowed my cock whole in the bathroom.” He flicks his tongue back and forth, sending your eyes to the back of your head as you squirm underneath him. “You were quite the dirty girl, huh?”

“Both.”

Instead of answering you, Jungkook envelops your bud fully, sucking gently. Pleasure rolls through you, your pussy beginning to slow ache with arousal. Your head falls to the side, and you’re only able to pant and dig your nails into his sides where you grab him, either to hold him to you or push him away; you’re not sure.

Jungkook’s mouth is wicked, lavishing your tits. He sucks greedily, noisy as he slides his tongue from one breast to the other. When you look at him, you see sin. Your chest shines in the glowing light of the city with the evidence of his oral fixation, turning you on even more.

Your underwear sticks to you uncomfortably and your toes curl. It feels so good but you need so much more, dripping in a way that is maddening as he starts to trail his mouth downward. He is so so slow, tasting your skin, hands skimming your sides, scraping blunt nails across your sensitive flesh.

He’s hardly done anything and yet you’re shaking underneath him, more sensitive and turned on than you’ve ever been. You cannot recall ever being this close to falling apart from just having someone touch you and play with your tits.

But it’s the way Jungkook looks at you. The movements of his hands on your skin. The way every single brush of his tongue and every drag of his teeth scraping over you seems perfectly timed. Attuned.

It feels like Jungkook already knows every part of your body, and something about that both terrifies and excites you, kicking your adrenaline into high gear, heart rattling, pulse beating in your neck.

With hooded eyes, you watch Jungkook unclasp the garter belt. He is gentle and methodical, pulling every layer of clothing off with a touch so reverent that it can only be holy. He is solely focused on his task, tasting your skin when his mouth draws near enough to feel you.

When he has you naked and shaking, he sinks to the floor in front of the bed, hands pressing your thighs open. You feel how much of a mess you are, slick and cold as the air hits you. You whimper, pussy aching to the point of madness.

Jungkook chuckles. “Yeah? Does it ache, baby?”

“Uh-huh.”

He blows cool air right onto your pussy. The sensation is a pleasure-sting, making you twist in his hands, trying to angle away from him to escape the cold. He laughs again, pinning your hips firmly to the bed while he presses hot-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs.

“Eyes on me,” he murmurs into your skin. “I told you that you were going to watch me eat this pussy.”

With effort, you lean up on your elbows, watching with your mouth parted as Jungkook tilts forward agonizingly slow to run the flat of his tongue up your cunt. Your fingers squeeze the sheets, thighs flexing under his firm hands. It feels so good but it looks even better.

He smirks, dipping down again to slow-lick you from top to bottom. You’re hypnotized, feeling your stomach lurch violently at how good it feels and how good he looks sliding his tongue through your wetness.

“Taste just as sweet as that ice cream,” he murmurs, sliding his hands closer to the apex of your thighs to hold you open. He catches your clit with his lips, sucking softly. Your head falls back as sparks explode under your skin. “Mmm. Like this so much better though.”

“Feels so good,” you rasp, lifting your head to fixate your eyes on him again. “Fuck, Jungkook.”

His tongue dips into your hole, tasting you further, drinking you in. “How do you like it?” he asks, tongue slowly zigzagging upward to circle your bundle of nerves. You’re trembling under him, fingers going numb with how tight you hold the sheets. “Slow? Fast? Messy?”

“Messy.”

He hums and brings his entire mouth to you, sucking greedily, tongue laving back and forth. You fall backward, unable to support yourself as he complies with your request. You bring a hand up to cover your face, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit,” you gasp.

Jungkook presses his face into your cunt, licking and slurping at you. The sounds are pornographic and you don’t care, your other hand going down between your legs to card through his hair, pulling gently. He grunts in appreciation, fucking his tongue into you, wiggling expertly.

You feel thoroughly fucked. Your limbs are heavy, the world spinning as he devours you. He lets your hips cant against his face, encouraging you with soft little hums, mouth smacking against you.

“This fucking pussy,” Jungkook swears, sucking harshly at your folds. “Fuck.”

“Wanna taste,” you beg, thoughts sticky. “Lemme.”

“Fuck.”

Jungkook’s tongue slides through your folds before he stands up, leaning over you. You turn to look at him - his eyes are blown, the bottom half of his face shining with your juice. You whine and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out eagerly. He follows your lead, grabbing your jaw and squeezing as he gathers your slick and his spit in his mouth before letting it drip into yours.

You can barely taste yourself but you fold your tongue in anyway, closing your mouth to swallow. He seems dazed, pupils dilated and wild as he crashes his mouth to yours. Your teeth click together and you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself properly for a moment before he breaks away and drops back down, attaching his mouth to your pussy.

This time, Jungkook is vicious. He pulls you to the edge of insanity, your thighs closed around his head, his grip on your legs iron. He whips his head back and forth, tongue pressed hot and heavy against you. You climb climb climb climb -

You break.

Everything in you seizes. You writhe in his hands, coming hard against his mouth. He doesn’t stop, mouthing you through your orgasm until you’re screaming and pushing at his forehead, the stimulation morphing from white-hot bliss to pleasure-laced pain.

Jungkook lets you push him away only for him to climb up your body, ripping his shirt up as he goes. Your arms feel heavy and sluggish as you pull at his belt. Your fingers fumble, unable to work the button and the zipper, making him laugh.

“I got it,” he whispers, leaning forward to steal a brazen kiss. “You good?”

You nod, unable to form words. You are good, but you’re still dizzy from the orgasm.

Still, seeing him strip off his shirt has you ready to go again. You lean forward, hand running up the flexing planes of his abs as he shuffles out of his pants. His body is beautiful - cut lines meeting soft skin, whorls of ink staining his arm and chest. His thighs are powerful, flexing as he kicks off his briefs, freeing his hard, heavy cock.

You reach for him, grasping him in your hand and guiding him toward your messy heat. Jungkook groans as you run his swollen head up and down your folds, making his cock shine with your arousal.

“Just like that,” he rasps, nodding his head. “Make it nice and fucking wet.”

After a few shallow thrusts, you take the tip and press down into your entrance. You feel a slight ache as he stretches you open despite having fucked you less than an hour ago. You pant through it, watching between your legs as he presses in until his hips are flush with yours.

It is a tight fit. Full. But so, so good. Jungkook leans forward, placing his hands on either side of his head. You look up to see his necklaces dangling in your face, making you grin. You tug on them, bringing his mouth down to yours for a slow, gentle kiss.

When he pulls away, he smiles. “Wore them just for you.”

“Mmm good. Fuck me, please. Feels so full.”

Jungkook’s left hand goes down, hiking your leg up around his waist. This time is different. He sets the pace slow, pulling all the way out and then gliding back in. You’re drenched enough to make the slide easy, your walls stretching around him the more he fucks you, setting a steady rhythm.

Pleasure spreads from your cunt outward, unfurling like a blossom. The gentle drag of his cock is mind-numbing, your hands sliding up your stomach to cup your chest, squeezing your tits. He groans in appreciation, picking up his pace a little, the wet slap of skin against skin backtracked by your loud, heavy breathing.

Sheets cling to your damp skin. You feel your chest heaving, Jungkook’s skin sliding against yours as he pulls you closer. You raise your hips, rolling into him, meeting his thrusts. Your hands slip on his arms, trying to find purchase on anything to ground you.

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath.

He pulls away and grabs both of your legs, making you slip. He’s careful not to pull out, pressing your legs together and hooking them side-by-side over his right shoulder, leaning in. The strain on your thighs feels good and the angle hits deep.

You bring a hand to your mouth, biting into your knuckle. The pain is like a relief, an outlet to channel the pent-up orgasm building like an indestructible storm inside of you.

Soft, deep moans drip from Jungkook’s mouth. Your feet flex, your body curling as the pleasure spreads. It’s like you can't sit still, every part of you exposed and raw, sparking with electricity as he drives his hips forward relentlessly.

Your sweaty calf slips off of his shoulder. He slows and taps you on the leg. “Wanna ride me, baby?”

“Yeah. Wanna sit on it.”

“Good girl.”

You preen under the praise. He pulls out, leaving a wet trail of fluid as he does. You’re both a little fuck-drunk and uncoordinated, switching places as he tosses himself on his back, reaching up to grab pillows and stuff them under his shoulders and head.

Facing the windows, you throw a leg over his hips, surprising him by turning your back to him. He growls and slaps a hand on your ass, the sound loud in the room. You moan, spurred by the sting as you shift down to his hips.

Grabbing his wet cock, you hover over the tip, carefully sinking down his shaft. This angle makes him so much deeper - you swear you feel him in your stomach. Speared to capacity, you take a moment to breathe, overwhelmed and overheated. Jungkook doesn’t mind, content to knead your ass and hips, fingers pressing into muscle and relieving tension.

“That feels so nice,” you sigh, head rolling to the side. You close your eyes, pussy twitching and stuff full.

“Yeah? I’ll give you a massage this week.”

“You’re promising me so many things.”

“Have to keep you on the hook.”

“And on your cock?”

He squeezes the globes of your ass. “Definitely on my cock. Feel so good wrapped around me.”

Leaning forward, you put your hands on his shins, using him as leverage to slowly lift yourself. The drag feels delicious, and when you drop back down, it feels like the air is punched from your lungs. You fuck yourself on him at your own pace, listening to the sound of him falling apart, occasionally his hands cracking your cheeks.

Biting your lip, you drive yourself to the edge of madness, shaking as your head falls forward between your arms, his name dropping from your mouth. Jungkook slides his hands under you, adding his assistance as he lifts you up and down his cock, helping you bounce. It’s wet and nasty and you don’t care, enjoying every second of it.

“Can I play with this pretty little asshole?” he asks, voice rough.

“Uh-huh.”

Wet fingers slide between your cheeks. Jungkook presses a finger to your tight rim, not enough to breach but just enough to give mind-melting stimulation. You grind yourself in his lap, focusing on the way it feels every time you roll your hips. Jungkook’s finger circles your asshole in time, making you nearly sob as you work yourself to an orgasm, so fucking close to coming for the third time that night.

He encourages you softly, come on, baby, and yeah just like that, get yourself off dripping from his lips. It’s like honey to your ears, sweet and syrupy. You work him faster, fingers going tight in the sheets as you hit your stride, arching up toward another release.

It builds and builds until you’re right on the edge, so so so close that you’re nearly screaming, eyes squeezed shut, breath held, legs shaking.

You fall over the edge, barely able to keep your rhythm. You feel your pussy flood around him. You’re gulping down air, hips still moving, broken cries interrupted by mindless babble.

When you start to slow, Jungkook sits up. He nearly knocks you over but he catches you, carefully laying you flat on your stomach. You go boneless, barely there, and floating. Your last orgasm makes everything watery and opaque, Jungkook’s voice is like syrup when he speaks.

“You okay?” You nod vigorously, sticking your ass up a little bit. You’re a little bit useless, but you want him to come, want him to use you. He notices, laughing as he spreads your legs a little, mess running down your folds. “Such a good girl for me, giving me this swollen cunt to use. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Tired and spent, you roll your head to the side, closing your eyes, just content to breathe as Jungkook starts to fuck you with abandon. It still feels good, making you tremble underneath him, bordering overstimulation. You toe that line of electricity, fingers twisted in the blanket, breath hissing.

Jungkook chases his orgasm, bending down to press a hot kiss onto your shoulder as he comes, tongue licking over the sweat and salt of your skin.

Time moves differently then - at least it feels like it. You don’t know how much passes between Jungkook’s orgasm and him pulling out, or him finally getting up and waking you up. You’re dizzy when you look at him, head cottony and full of almost-sleep.

Wordlessly, he takes you to the bathroom. You don’t have the mind to look at your surroundings or pay attention to what anything looks like, content to let him pull you into the shower and turn on the hot water. You’re barely there, lost between exhaustion and a post-bliss aura that makes you soft.

When Jungkook kisses you in the shower, it’s not with the intent to start something else, but it does wake you up. You become a little more lucid, kissing him sweetly, innocent. Afterward, Jungkook wraps you in a fluffy towel and guides you through his bedroom to another room in the house, too tired to change his sheets.

You crash down in the bed together, heavy-limbed and sated. Jungkook pulls you close, already half asleep, eyes shut and mouth parted. You curl into him, realizing you fit perfectly into the curve of his body. Like you were made for him.

Quickly you fall asleep, your last thought being that perhaps Jungkook is made for you.

Morning comes with a brush of a gentle mouth against your shoulder. You hum, turning your head toward the source of the touch. Jungkook’s lips press against yours, morning-slow, tired-soft. You’re sore everywhere - most notably between your legs - but you let him drag you into a lazy makeout session.

Neither of you are really awake. The sun has not come up yet, the world awash in dark grey. Warm blankets wrap around you, heat trapping between your body. Jungkook’s hand slides down your waist and dips between your legs. You part them, sighing as he swipes his fingers through you and groans when they come away wet.

No words are spoken. Only butterfly-soft breaths and gentle gasps of air as he sinks two fingers into your heat from behind. You open yourself up to him, falling into the feel-good stimulation of his touch as it brushes your G-spot.

It doesn’t matter that you’re tired and sore. You want more of Jungkook - cannot get enough of him. Already you’re thinking about the next time you can have him. Even as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly until he’s snug to your core, you’re thinking about how many more times you can take him. How many more ways you want to.

You’ve barely started and you’re addicted. Craving him. Reaching a hand around behind you to cradle his head to the back of yours, feeling his warm breath fan your ear as he fucks you slowly. Delicate. Far too intimate for the two of you, almost strangers.

If someone had told you two days ago that your night would start with locking eyes with Jungkook, a world-renowned artist, and end with securing a date that led to this moment, trembling in his arms as he makes you come again, you’d have thought they were crazy.

Now, you can’t imagine it turning out any other way. Can’t imagine not feeling him shift his hand around to play with your clit, bringing you swiftly to another cresting orgasm, leaving you shaking and broken and near weeping in his arms, coming down from your high as he finishes himself off, cock twitching inside of you.

Jungkook’s hand leaves your pussy, sliding up your stomach until he reaches the underside of your jaw. He grabs you, turning your face to his, stealing your mouth in a sloppy, searing kiss.

“Mine,” he mumbles against your mouth between kisses. “Mine.”

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook series #minors dni #minors do not interact

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tiyoin · 6 months

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Twisted anxiety reader in a singing contest show (MHAHAMHAHAH) It would be a reason why she was singing in the woods.

✨ imagine✨

MC is feeling useless and unhelpful and just wants to pull their weight in supporting the dorm and stuff. Just overall trying to be more useful to Yuu.

So she overhears smth about a anonymous singing contest and the winner will get $5000 which for mc, Yuu and Grimm that's a lot of money. And 2nd and 3rd also has cash prizes. I think she goes for 2nd place ,so she has the money of 1st without the popularity of 1st. So she puts her fears to the side (🤨no she doesn't) to help her friend and cat.

I see this contest being an online voting type thing. Also celebs 😉 do go on the show to help promote it, to judge them and what ever else they do.

In the show they give the contestants a "wish"/ charm that can help them with their performance (enter ✨shimmers✨ & instruments magic that was talked about). It what makes the show popular

Now we give MC song/writing abilities. She honestly has a diary of kind. She needs it.( Torture her bout it later😈)

Now I'm sure we wondering how does this come into play

THEY THINK THE SONGS ARE ABOUT THEM

They'll all find a way to connect the songs to themselves. If songs says an eye color or hair color the characters with said color goes crazy about it.

Enchanted by Taylor Swift is one that comes to mind as a song that everyone relates to.

Rook/ jade would send clips of MC singing on the show and "THIS IS THE VOICE I HEARD"

I have so many sub-plots for twisted singer reader.

Also I'm really glad to like hearing things like this. I was really nervous to send the asks.

More to come along at one point or another ☺️☺️

i immediately thought of “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green” from jolene and rook just going:

shout out to @/a-twistedheartslonging because i WILL NOT stop using this cute little rook meme they made fldkaldkakwkdkxkakdkfhx

OH MY GOD READER IS SO NERVY AND SCARED AND THINKING SOOO MUCH ABOUT THIS SINGING COMPETITION AHHHHH

they’re physically reacting to thinking about it. they’re nervous tics come out (that happens to me, whenever i’m suppppper nervous i start chanting and get anxiety induced tics) and yuu and grim are getting worried because nothing has happened, so why are you so anxious?

OH MY GOD HAHSHSHAH IMAGINE THE WHOLE CONTEST IS FILLED WITH INTROVERTS HAHDHAHAHAH they all get to suffer at our expense

MUWHAHAHAHSHZHHAH AHHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH😈😈😈

*clears throat* anyways 🙂

reader : *sings enchanted*

ALL of the guys she made eye contact with that week: …so you’re proposing?

OH MY GOD MAYBE ROOK AND JADE (for totally separate reasons) SEND IN A CLIP THEY TOOK OF Y/N SINGING AND SENDING IT TO THE SHOW BAHAHSHAHA

idk maybe there’s some super duper advanced magical technology (marvel’s equivalent of ‘quantum’) and y/n gets an invitation and they’re like????

I DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING YET

THE CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT IS SOOO REAL-

ROOK BRINGING VIL TO THE FOREST WHOSE GRUMBLING ABOUT HOW HE HAS HOMEWORK AND HOW THIS’LL THROW HIS SCHEDULE OFF-

“non non! roi du poison you must come with me avec hâte!” (with haste)

and they’re crouched behind a rock for a few minutes and vil is annoyed because rook is doing rook things again and he does not have time for this. especially not today because he has to find someone to endorse for the music show he volunteered to judge.

only problem: EVERYONE SUCKS OR HAS AN UGLY PERSONALITY!! vil is disgusted by the cockiness and the greediness of these… influencers who paid their way to be on the show.

it puts a horrible taste in his mouth, especially with how shameless they are to try and win his favor. he’s not some cheap executive they can bribe to put their foot through the door, especially with their lack luster… abilities.

vil almost called it talent, but you had to be good to have that.

just as he’s about to voice his complaints and leave, rook’s grip on his shoulder stopped him from moving and the finger to his lips stopped him from breathing. vil was visibly shocked because rook never put hands on him, especially like this.

there was a snap of a twig up ahead. rook’s forest green eyes flicked to the horizon a few times, head too, urging him to look.

and he’s more than pleasantly surprised to see… you- well as much of yourself that you would allow the watchful eyes of the trees see. your ceremonial robe covering your short stature.

rook looked at vil expectingly, but vil was still confused, so what if a student was in the woods? unless it was his own this was a problem rook should bring up to the other house wardens. and it wasn’t illegal, nor against the school rules so-

then, you started singing.

he couldn’t recognize the song. but he could recognize the passion. yes you were untrained and flat in a few sections but that didn’t matter. you were good, pitchy but good.

song after song, sometimes repeating a few as you danced and bowed your heart away.

he wasn’t sure how much time passed but it was a considerable amount since the sun that once well over the trees now peeked through the canopy and was gazing longingly at the moon.

cursing, you looked around, bent down to collect the things you brought with you, and scurried away towards another entrance towards the forest.

vil was quick to react, to follow but rook stopped him. looking down at his vice house warden with an incredulous look, rook only shook his head softly. there was a reason you were alone in the woods and not in the various music clubs.

this was your little secret.

vil who WAITS for your submission so he can back you but you never submit… hm,

with a snap of his manicured fingers, rook is on it! maybe rook knows who you are, maybe he doesn’t, vil could really care less since the whole show is based off of anonymity.

(vil side eyes the influencers and other contestants who practically spell it out for the audience who they are so they can vote for them)

maybe to… put you on the right track vil has rook go to your little forest spot and place a flyer there, practically ENCOURAGING YOU TO SIGN. UP.

you think someone would get a hint right?

“huh, that’s weird… maybe i should change locations since someone else was here”

that’s it. rook’s sending in your video and you’re getting a flyer stapled to the tree saying you’re accepted. yes yes this is because of your fairy god mother’s NOW SING

vil also giving y/n some song recommendations he thinks that are good, up until he sees you gently pull out a FUCKING LOADED BOOK from your backpack filled with songs.

yes darling those are great but lol at all the nice songs he gave you! they’re in your range too!!

vil slowly finding out who you are because he heard you hum a song in the hallways that only the mysterious ‘forest nymph’ (what a ludicrous myth the students came up with) sang.

and yes he’s shocked that the ramshackle neet (ouch vil 😿) has golden pipes.

THE CHAT ROOM IS NOW INVITE ONLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE HEARD THE ELUSIVE FOREST NYMPHS SONG!!! (i’ll cook smthn better i promise)

VIL THINKING WHAT TO SEND THEM TO HELP THEM IN A CUT THORAT BATTLE ROUND AND ROOK OFF HANDEDLY COMMENTING ‘if only there were an orchestra here to play along with their beautiful singing’

ERUKIA!!

*cue golden instruments*

but in hindsight sight:

we’re gonna give her so much anxiety she’s not gonna know what to do😈 sorry pookie!! there’s no safe space at night raven college☺️🫶

#so many thought & yet so little space 😔#just know that i’m right here- patiently waiting in the wings for your next ask so i can info dump some more ☺️#i don’t want this to get too long but #sorry for the long post babes🙈#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#VIL THINKING OF WHAT TO

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dansemacabre · 2 months

Text

are you stuck trying to decode the book of bill but you don’t want the keys handed to you? i was in your shoes literally three days ago! i failed and looked up codes on reddit (because a good grade in book of bill is a normal thing to want and a possible thing to get) but now you don’t have to!! here are some BOOK OF BILL CODEBREAKING HINTS designed to kindly shove you in the right direction!

my credentials are: one summer cryptography class i took in high school, autism, weirdly good pattern recognition (probably because of the autism), and a desperate need to make things make sense. sorry in advance if any of this seems patronizing. hints below the page break!!

general tips:

- A and I will become your bestest friends. like 99 times out of 100 any single letter is a or i. try those out first

- the apostrophe will also become your bestest friend- especially x’x, which will almost always be i’m (except there’s one place in the book where it is not. don’t make my mistakes.)

- themysteryofgravityfalls.com is SO so helpful. for non-symbolic ciphers u can lowkey put in codes and button mash caesar and atbash. godsend. devilsend? idk someone sent it and it’s wonderful

- call every phone number, visit every website. they bought those domains for a reason! i think!

- any list of numbers 1-26 is a1z26. like that’s simply a truth

cipher specific hints now !!!

RUNES (characters taken from norse runes)

- there is a key for this one in the book! maybe u spotted it right away but i did not lol, so look for an instance of 26 rune-y characters!

- the rune code on the inside cover is a graffiti joke- translates to a common thing people write on walls or carve into books made out of brain matter ig

THERAPESE (found in the last few pages during bills court-ordered therapy)

- bill’s picture is labeled in this section, so those characters translate directly to “bill cipher” ! once you have those, you can apply them to other instances of the code and go from there

- the rest of the names of the… things around him on the inpatients page are puns, titles, and/or weird words. they might look wrong until you have Every Character- trust ur key! use the rest of the instances of this code to find the missing letters first, make sense of it and laugh at the clever little joke later

BROSCODE (only two instances, found in journal 3 lost pages)

- the name is a hint by itself- this is stanley and stanford related! both stans use it once somewhere in the book!

NEWBILL (the most common symbolic cipher in the book)

- if you have journal three, the characters are VERY similar to a code there- not the same though, so don’t try and use that key. but like journal three, this code will (almost) always be bill speaking.

- ok lowkey i think the best way to explain this is just to give you one answer. i cracked this by randomly guessing that the small writing by the galaxy drawing on the journal three page “a voice form the past” translates to “forget the past”. go from there my loves

- that being said. everything else from journal three uses the same characters, but a different code. haven’t cracked it yet. looking for advice tee bee haych. i’ll edit this once i find it out

- also: dipper uses this code in his section. that’s pretty helpful to get most of the rest of the characters!

now some page specific hints!:

silly straw page. Oh god

- damn that themysteryofgravityfallsdotcom sure is helpful! Anyway,

- the numbers code is Weird. but the number don’t equal letters. notice the spaces between number groups- pair the groups, try and add a dash somewhere within the first group and a colon somewhere within the second group. you’ll have to use your resources a little

- if that made zero sense: “uhvrxufhv” phdqv brxu idyrulwh ghhsob ohjdo wy vkrz ylhzlqj zhevlwh. ru brxu kxox dffrxqw

- sorry for the vagueness but i really don’t want to spoil this one- i got it spoiled but i think figuring it out on your own would be really rewarding and worth your Time

messages on your tv

- there are strange boxes on the bottom of the page. gonna be so honest don’t know how they mean anything at all to anyone but allegedly it’s a code! i’ll look into it. idk man

okay. i think that’s all i’ve got? please comment if u have questions for me or other folks on here or suggestions on how to sound less like a fucking nerd talking abt this shit. idk i love that people are set on cracking this book asap but i hope this helps ppl who prefer The Thrill Of The Chase and also like to feel smart and important and so very talented

#get a load of this guy!#sorry ik this must sound so pretentious. unfortunately my cryptography hyperfix is BACK #but also #normalize using codes and ciphers as set storytelling devices. big book of bill fan but why do bill and ford use the same code #the book of bill #book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #book of bill spoilers #bill cipher #code breaking #book of bill codes #ciphers #arg #like technically #shutupmac #codebreaking help

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simp4konig · 1 year

Text

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

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7ndipity · 11 months

Text

When Their Crush Has a Crush

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: In connection with the Secret Crush HCs, how they would react/get jealous to finding out that their crush has feelings for someone(or even another member)

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! We’re back with more of that unrequited angst that y’all apparently love lol! This also kinda reminded me of this jealousy reaction I made awhile back, so there’s that if you want to check those out too!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Jin:

Oh, he HATES it. And does not hide it, though he’s giving you five different reasons why he hates it, and none of them are the truth, at least not entirely.

“They don't strike me as the relationship type.” “I think they might be a murderer.” “They’re just not good enough for you.”

Tries to make himself look better in comparison.

But he’s not trying to make a move! Nonono, he would never do that. He just wants you to know what a better option looks like.

Yeah, that’s it.🙄

Yoongi:

Tries to not let it bother him, and by that I mean he’s like “of-course-you-would-find-someone-why-wouldn’t-you?-it’s-not-like-he-ever-told-you-how-he-felt-but-it’s-totally-fine-and-not-haunting-his-every-waking-moment-but-omg-what-if-you-actually-get-with-them-”

Yeah, no, he’s going to majorly overthink the whole situation, like it’s bad.

Would probably withdraw for a bit, but then realizes that he can’t stand the distance and gets kinda clingy.

Which clingy Yoongi is like? A whole different person?

This would probably be one of the few moments that would tip you off about his true feelings.

Hobi:

Tries not to be bothered at first, bc it’s just a crush, it doesn’t mean anything… Right?

Queue him getting in his head and starting to worry about literally everything.

Throws so much side eye though and knit picks whoever's caught your attention, but he can’t quite help it.

Would end up slipping up and saying something about he doesn’t think they’re a good match for you. Which leads to you asking who would be a good match for you then?

And then he either just says idk, or ends up basically describing himself and hoping you don’t notice how desperately he’s trying not to confess right then and there.

Namjoon:

Gets jealous super easily, you already know, though you don’t quite know why.

As I said before, if you so much as even mention being into somebody, he’s pulling back and distancing himself a bit as a kind of defense mechanism.

Or else he tries to avoid being around them or bringing them up in conversation, though he’ll deny that’s what he’s doing if you ask.

Is so fucking passive aggressive about anything relationship related, you end up thinking that he must’ve got dumped or smth and feeling kinda bad for him.

Which ends up triggering this weird sort of truce between you where you just don’t talk about it for a while.

Jimin:

Lowkey panicking inside. Because yeah, hypothetically he wants you to be happy and live your best life, but does it have to be with them? Or anyone?

Would want to try to dissuade your feelings for them a bit, but he doesn’t want to come off as manipulative or disrespectful of your opinion.

“They don’t seem like a good match for you.”

He’s mostly kinda mad at himself, cause if he’d just told you how he felt earlier, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Would probably start seriously considering actually confessing, cause he cannot stand being in this weird limbo state with you.

Taehyung:

Ngl, he’s so dramatic, even if it’s just a tiny crush, he’s going to be kinda heartbroken, like you might as well have kissed them in front of him.

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad, but you get what I’m saying. He’s not cool with this.

Does not hide his feelings of disdain for whoever’s caught your attention.(they are not passing the vibe check)

Gets hella clingy and wants to be with you constantly, so that you don’t really have time for them? If that even makes sense?

Tries to find things to impress you and get you to take notice of him cause don’t you think he’s nice too? Don’t you think he’d make a good partner too?

Jungkook:

The sulkiest man to ever exist.

He can not stand it, even if it's a purely theoretical situation, like all you said was that you thought some guy was cute, and now he’s imagining all the worst case scenarios where he could lose you to them.

Like Tae, he’d get soo fucking possessive and clingy, trying to prove himself to you, though he might not exactly be sure what he’s trying to prove.

Would actively try to put himself between you and them if at all possible.

As I said before, this would probably be his achilles heel that pushes him over the edge and leads to him confessing, even if he knows it’s the wrong time.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @captainorangegoose @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Note

Hey I just found you recently and I fell in love with way you write!! I wanted ask for something with Sebastian. Him asking the reader to the Yule ball, then going to the Yule ball together, maybe theyre friends with some secret pining in the picture too. Idk know, maybe him confessing. I just want romantic idiots in love kind of stuff. Thank you!!

The Northcott System

{Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Garreth Weasley has asked the infamous Eric Northcott for dating advice. In order to seem more desirable to you, he needs to play mind games. So instead of asking you to the ball, he asks Nellie Oggspire. This is where he pulls in Sebastian Sallow for help with his plan. Garreth knows he doesn’t have feelings for you, so it would be harmless for him to take you to the ball, right? Unfortunately, shoving you and Sebastian together in this way backfires. And Sebastian becomes just as head over heels for you as Garreth is.

Word Count: ~ 5,700 words

Warnings: Kissing, Some Underage Drinking

Author’s Note: Man... I am ALL FOR YULE BALL ONESHOTS! Lol ramielll, I can’t thank you enough for the request.❤ Romantic high school idiots in love kind of stuff is my shit! I think it's so much fun to write. It’s so awkward and lovey dovey, I adore it. I feel so bad making Garreth the sucker in these Sebastian stories but he fits too well 😭 I need to make more Garreth stories to make up for it, he doesn’t deserve this. Fun fact, Eric Northcott’s advice in this came from my father-in-law. My husband is very lucky he didn’t pull that shit or I would have been long gone lmfaooo (The title is in reference to Sunny in Philadelphia’s D.E.N.N.I.S. System, you’re a real one if you caught it 😉.)

Songs (if interested):

Evergreen - Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners

drift/(:( - Alek Olsen

Butterflies (feat. AURORA) - Tom Odell

The Kiss - Trevor Jones

The Reason - Hoobastank

“Eric Northcott says the best way to get someone obsessed with you is to treat them like royalty, then ignore them for a few weeks.” Garreth Weasley told his group of friends in the hall.

“You took dating advice from Eric Northcott?” Ominis asked in disbelief.

“Of course I did.” Garreth responded proudly, as if he were the smartest person in the world to have done so.

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Don’t even pretend you haven’t heard about all the dates he’s pulled, Ominis.”

“Oh I’ve heard. Doesn’t sound like he’s been able to keep any of them though.”

“He’s a free man, Ominis. He just doesn’t want to be held down.”

Sebastian was half paying attention to the conversation around him. He knew it was related to the upcoming ball, but that’s all. He was looking over his notes on the recent restricted section find of his. It was too big and bulky of a book to carry around everywhere he went, so he had jotted down all he could to read over throughout the day.

“But this is why I need you, Sebastian.”

“Hmm?” Sebastian glanced up at Garreth.

“I know you haven’t spoken much, maybe not even at all for all I know. But I need you to take the new fifth year to the ball.”

Sebastian raised a questioning brow at him. “Why?”

It took way too much effort for Sebastian to try and follow Garreth’s plan. Garreth was going to take Nellie Oggspire to the ball, so he wanted Sebastian to take you to ensure no one with ulterior motives did. According to dating expert, Eric Northcott, you would be riddled with jealousy seeing Garreth with someone else. Then the day after the ball, he’d go up to you and confess his feelings. After seeing how he had other options, he’d be all the more desirable and you’d be over the moon to be chosen by him.

Sebastian felt like the plan was missing a few steps, or maybe had too many wrong ones to begin with. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to - oh, I don’t know - just go with the person you like to begin with?” He tried not to sound smart, but of course he sounded smart.

“It’s genius, Sebastian. You just don’t get it.”

“Evidently not.” He exhaled, looking back to his notes. But, now that he thought about it, he did need a date. He’d had tunnel vision on research for Anne’s curse, the ball had snuck up on him. There wasn’t anyone else who had popped up in his head to ask either. He had been a bit too preoccupied for anyone to catch his eye in that way.

He thought back to every interaction he’d had with you, which wasn’t many. You had held your own against him well enough while dueling in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but he couldn’t know for sure how good you were. He had held back greatly considering you had just learned levioso and you were using a second hand wand. The only other time he could remember was when you two were partnered in potions class. There wasn’t a whole lot of getting to know each other then either. Still being so new to the magic world, you asked him endless questions about that day’s brew. He thought it a fine quality for someone to have, eager to learn rather than quick to dismiss what you didn’t understand. You were pretty easy on the eyes too.

Sebastian rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Alright, Weasley. I don’t get this plan but I’ll do it. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sebastian closed up his notes. “I’m off to get a date to the ball apparently.”

How could I be so stupid to think Garreth liked me in that way? You inwardly chided yourself. The sting of finding out he had asked Nellie Oggspire to the ball still hadn’t dissipated. The way he had treated you so kindly lately had you certain he was going to ask you to the ball. But not only did he ask someone else, he had noticeably distanced himself from you out of nowhere. You weren’t sure what you did that seemed to upset him, but you didn’t have the time to chase after him and find out. You were already behind enough as it was, maybe the space between you two would help you catch up and get focused.

You hummed a song as you tended to the carnivorous plants in the greenhouse. You usually would have the energy to at least lightly sing some of the words for them, knowing they enjoyed music. But today, you didn’t have the gusto.

The greenhouse door opening and shutting pulled your attention and your humming ceased. You peeked over your shoulder. “Hello, Sebastian. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” He answered as he made his way over, becoming suddenly nervous. He realized he didn’t have a plan on what to say as soon as he was alone with you.

Just as you were about to bring your focus back to the plants, you remembered you had wanted to speak with him. “Oh! I’m glad you’re here, I've been thinking about you recently.”

He stopped in his tracks and a blush crept up his neck. You’ve been thinking of me? “Oh?” Was all he could get himself to say.

“Yes.” You nodded enthusiastically, setting down your gardening tools and walking up to him. You brought yourself close and it put him on edge a bit. Keeping your voice low, you asked, “Do you think you could help me get into the uh -” You glanced at the door making sure it was closed all the way, “restricted section sometime soon?”

“Huh.” He didn’t know what he expected you to say to him, but it certainly wasn’t that. He was taken aback by your request, but, even more so, he was intrigued. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Seems I’ve got a reputation if even you’ve heard about my excursions. Whatever for, may I ask?”

“A book on ancient magic, that’s all I know unfortunately. Have you come across any such thing? Do you know where it would be down there?”

Now you had really piqued his interest. He had been trying to look into ancient magic himself lately for Anne. “Hmm. I’ve come across some passages here and there. But I don’t recall seeing any books solely on ancient magic.”

“Ah.” You said, disappointed.

“But another trip to look wouldn’t hurt.” He said quickly. “No matter how much Madam Scribner disagrees. I can get you down there this weekend.”

Your eyes lit up. “Will you? Oh thank you, Sebastian. You have no idea how much you’d be helping me out, you’d be my hero for this.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, getting a little bashful at the thought of being ‘your hero’, even just a small one that helped you find a book. “Don’t mention it.”

“No seriously, thank you. I’m sorry I have to drag you into helping me at all.” You exhaled, frustrated. “I mean what even is the point of a restricted section? You’d think a proper magical education would include all magic, none of this some are fine, some are off limits nonsense.”

His eyes widened a bit, words seeming to evade him. Seems a kindred spirit may have been closer than he realized.

“Look at me rambling on, now I’m just venting.” You shook your head. “I distracted you from what you needed to do in here, I apologize. I’ll let you get to it.” You went to return to the plants but Sebastian grabbed at your wrist to stop you.

“I came here to find you actually.” You faced him again and he cleared his throat, releasing you. “Garreth told me you’d be in here.”

You tried not to look bitter at the mention of Garreth. “What can I do for you?”

How does one go about asking another to a ball? Especially when it wasn’t his idea. He at least knew it wouldn't be very endearing to mention that part. Maybe he didn’t need to overcomplicate it. Just get the basic idea out, then embellish if asked anything further. “The upcoming ball. Would you like to go with me?”

The surprise was clear as day on your face, but it was a pleasant surprise, Sebastian was relieved to note. Was he holding his breath?

Sebastian Sallow was asking you to the ball? You weren’t against the idea, not at all. Sebastian Sallow of all people, who would have thought? The two of you had never really spoken, to be honest you didn’t think he knew your name.

“Y - Yes, I would actually.” You smiled at him, looking genuinely glad he asked you.

He huffed out a breathy laugh and began to feel giddy. Calm down, Sallow. It’s not like this is someone you’ve been pining for. He tried to inwardly deflate himself. This was the first real conversation he’d had with you, how could he possibly feel so elated to you saying ‘yes’ to him? Just happy to have a date to the ball, that must be it.

“That’s -” He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “That’s all I needed, I suppose. So, I’ll be off.” He said, staying in place and shifting on his feet. He didn’t want to leave the greenhouse, he realized. “See you this weekend?”

You nodded your head, a smile still gracing your lips. “You will.”

Sebastian returned your smile, then went to leave. When he opened the door, he took one last glance at you before he stepped out. His stomach jumped seeing you still looking at him, a little thrilled you were staring after him. He wanted to say something more, but couldn’t think of anything quick enough. He gave a small bow of his head in goodbye, then left the greenhouse.

Was it supposed to be this thrilling when a boy you barely spoke to asked you to a ball?

Sebastian rubbed at his jaw as he made his way out of the herbology wing, his face was starting to hurt from grinning so hard. He was thinking he should write down a list of all the books he’d come across that mentioned ancient magic for you. Just in case you were interested.

He was so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed Garreth watch him leave the greenhouse and walk up behind him.

“How did it go? Is the plan on?” Garreth asked, breaking Sebastian from his thoughts.

Oh right, the plan. Sebastian thought it was more idiotic by the second, but it got him a date with someone he hadn’t realized he had some things in common with, so it couldn’t be that bad. He stopped walking and faced Garreth, glancing over the red head’s shoulder to make sure you weren’t coming out of the greenhouse. “Sure, it’s on. What now?”

“Brilliant.” Garreth was ecstatic. “Now all I have to do is keep my distance until the ball’s over.”

Sebastian seemed to like the sound of that. “Uh - right. Good thinking. Well, best be off.” Sebastian turned to make his way to his dorm, keen on getting that book list started for you.

“You’re a real one for this, Seb!” Garreth called after him.

Without looking back, Sebastian gave him a thumbs up.

Would he look overeager having brought the list of books and this enchanted bag? Merlin, he hoped not. He was already waiting for you outside the library, a little too late to have that regret.

He pushed up off the wall he was leaning against when he saw you approach. “You’re here.” He said, as if he were a little shocked you were actually going through with this.

“Don’t look so surprised.” You spoke in a hushed tone and smirked. “What’s that you’ve got there?” You asked, looking down at the bag and parchment in his hands.

“Oh, it’s - I was thinking - In case you wanted to take any more books that mention ancient magic while we’re down there, you could put them in here. It’s an enchanted bag that can fit just about anything.”

Your eyes widened, it was very thoughtful of him to go out of his way for you like that. “You’re joking. You didn’t have to do this.” You went up and took the items from him, looking over the list and taking a peek inside the bag.

You were right. He didn’t have to. But for whatever reason, he really wanted to. Why did I want to?

“I usually bring one anyway. It was no trouble.” The first part was a lie. “Now, do you know the disillusionment spell?”

It was way too late in the night when Sebastian returned to his dorm room. But he wasn’t tired, not at all, not after what you and him had just gone through to get that book.

After kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his robes, he slid into bed easily. He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, already nostalgic for the night he just had with you.

You were… Wow, you were something. Sneaking into the restricted section with you was already riveting. Going through all the books on that list he made and glancing over them together had stirred him. You two stood close while he pointed out the relevant passages he had found, and you listened attentively, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. But when you two had found that ancient magic vault, he was done for. What an adventure that was!

He had so many emotions about it all. Discovering that ancient magic still existed had him ecstatic, he knew there were untouched areas of magic to explore further for Anne. And watching you wield it as if you had done so your whole life had him overwhelmed with hope, hope he was sure his uncle was nearly successful in getting rid of. And to top it off, exploring that vault and fighting giant guardian statues alongside you was… Wow! It was the first time he’d felt so alive since Anne got cursed.

How could someone like you have been under his nose this whole time? He thought back to when you were partnered in potions class, had he really been so blind even then? He couldn’t be wasting any more time. He only had a few weeks until the ball and Garreth would be pulling all the stops to make you his.

Sebastian sneaked glances at you during breakfast. You seemed to be busy finishing up some last minute homework, every now and then taking a bite of your toast. Had you always made simple acts look this endearing? Even the face you made while you fixated on your homework had his insides warming like a first year with a crush.

Your gaze lifted from your writing to look around the dining hall in thought. Your eyes landed on him, and he immediately wanted to die, embarrassed he got caught staring. But then you smiled at him, and he didn’t want to die anymore. He smiled back and you went back to your homework.

Gathering your belongings, you got up from your seat and made your way over to him. He got antsy as he watched you approach, but he was able to keep an air of calm.

“Sebastian, could I steal you for a moment?” You asked in a hushed tone.

“Of course.” Stop sounding so eager, you buffoon. He got up and followed you until you were just out of hearing distance from everyone else.

“I got a lead on where the book’s missing pages are. And I um - Well, I -”

Sebastian eyed you as you started shuffling your feet. Are you nervous?

“I was wondering - you know, since we worked so well together getting the book - if you’d like to come with me to get them? No need to feel like you have to! I just thought -”

“Absolutely, I’m coming with you.” He found himself saying.

An ecstatic look formed on your features, but you tried to bite it back. “Great, I’ll meet you after dinner tonight.”

Sebastian gave you a nod, trying to hold back an enthusiasm of his own.

You held your books closer to you as you started to take your leave, but you stopped suddenly, remembering something. “Oh, Sebastian. Before I forget.” You had his full attention again as you dug around in your robes pocket. “Ah, here it is.” You held out a shrivelfig to him, giving him a look of go on, take it.

He took it gingerly from your hand and looked at you, bewildered.

“You mentioned you spent the last of your money on a shrivelfig to try out for Anne, but your uncle destroyed it.”

Sebastian lifted his brows, amazed you had remembered such a thing. “Thank you.” He said, meaning it more than you knew.

“It’s the least I can do for all your help.” You waved him off. “I’ve been growing some anyway, and I’ve got more on the way if you ever need.” You were getting jumpier by the second and knew you had to get out of there before you made an idiot of yourself. “See you tonight.”

He was about to speak but you rushed off before he could get anything out. He looked down at the shrivelfig and turned it in his hand. You’d only been speaking a few days, and he already had it bad for you.

All too soon, it was the night of the ball, the last night he’d have with you before Garreth’s plan came to an end and he’d try to make you his. He wanted to enjoy it. He wondered if he should confront Weasley, but what would the point be if you didn’t have feelings for him any way? You and Garreth had been close for a majority of the year, while you and Sebastian only had these last few weeks together… these wondrous, extraordinary, marvelous few weeks.

He leaned up against the wall with his hands in his pockets as he waited. Nellie Oggspire had just walked down the steps and linked arms with Garreth. The red head gave him a knowing nod of his head as he passed, and Sebastian nodded back, trying not to tip him off that anything was amiss.

He glanced back up at the stairs to see if the person who just arrived was you. He saw it wasn’t and looked back down. Wait, yes it is! He shot up off the wall and stood up straight. He hardly recognized you, you cleaned up so wonderfully. He found you plenty attractive in your day-to-day getups already, yet you still managed to bring yourself up another level? Your smile at him as you walked down the steps was a spell in its own right. That’s not fair. He wanted to whine.

He met you at the bottom of the stairs, holding out his hand for you to take as you walked down the last few steps. He kept his eyes on yours as he kissed your knuckles. The feel of his lips on your skin had you weak, thankfully he held out his arm for you to take. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind if you leaned on him a bit.

The two of you looked out to the great hall, admiring how everything had been redone for the ball. Sebastian caught sight of Garreth gawking at you like he was in pain. Pushing Garreth to the back of his mind, he glanced back at you and was relieved you didn’t seem to notice the green eyed boy.

He cleared his throat, trying to forget Weasley existed. “Would you like to dance?”

“Yes, please.” You smiled sweetly. Dancing was the best next step. Your nerves were wild within you holding onto Sebastian like this, no way you would have been able to keep still.

He guided you to the dance floor and twirled you before bringing you into the proper waltz stance, just as you hoped he would. You looked up at him, holding each other a bit closer than what was probably appropriate for a school dance, and wondered how you two could possibly be so in sync after only a few weeks of getting to know each other.

You had never thought yourself to be a great dancer. But somehow, with Sebastian in the lead, you felt as if you had suddenly become an expert. It must have been all the dueling the two of you had done together, that was practically a dance in and of itself. Being constantly aware of where the other was at all times, covering each other’s blind spots, not allowing one misstep to let the other get a scratch on them.

Neither of you had any idea how many songs you danced through. If you had the stamina, you two remained on the dance floor. Sebastian couldn’t recall ever liking dancing this much, couldn’t recall ever liking it in the slightest. But you seemed to bring it out of him, he wasn’t complaining.

It wasn’t until Sebastian started to overheat in his coat that he realized how long the two of you had been going. “I don’t want to stop but I need to take this off.” He huffed with a laugh, slowing the two of you down to a stop. He hated that he had to throw off the momentum at all.

“It’s alright.” You panted. “I need to run to the washroom anyway. Grab us some drinks for when I’m back!” You called to him as you sped off, wanting to return as soon as possible.

Garreth caught Sebastian’s dreamy stare as he watched you walk off. He excused himself from Nellie to get drinks at the same time as him.

Sebastian didn’t seem to notice Garreth approach, too caught up in getting a glass for you and him, a pleased smile on his face. Garreth cleared his throat to grab his attention and Sebastian’s gaze shot up, his smile faltering. “Evening.” Garreth said, eyeing him.

“Evening.” Sebastian replied innocently, hoping that was the end of it. With drinks in hand, he went and found the table with your names on it. Garreth, forgetting drinks for him and Nellie, followed close in pursuit. Once he set down your glasses, Sebastian shrugged off his jacket then placed it on the back of the chair. All the while, wishing Garreth would take a hint and sod off.

“Look Sallow. I’m grateful you’re helping me out, but could you tone it down a bit? You two uh… really seem to be enjoying yourselves.” He glanced at the entrance to make sure you weren’t coming back yet, then turned back to Sebastian. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make a move.” Garreth chuckled amicably, but Sebastian could still hear the warning in it.

“Garreth, relax. It's all a part of the plan.” He’d say anything to keep Garreth away from you that night. “Don’t wuss out now and ruin all your progress. Now off you go, back to Nellie, distance makes the heart grow fonder and such.” He shooed.

Garreth gave him one last uneasy glance, then went on his way.

Sebastian sat himself down while he waited for you. Catching his breath and trying to recover so he’d be ready to dance again when you returned. He looked up towards the entrance and locked eyes with you as you made your way back. You smiled at each other, both thankful there was still plenty of the night left to go.

Ominis put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, giving a quick whistle to grab his attention. Sebastian glanced up then down at the flask he was expertly sneaking to him.

“Ominis, you bad bad boy.” Sebastian laughed. Looking back at you, he smoothly took it from him. He hid it in his lap as you arrived and slid into the seat next to him. He realized then, he wouldn’t have any if you didn’t.

“You better give me some of that.”

He also realized he’d gladly share. Sebastian was slightly aroused at seeing this misbehaving side of yours, how sly you were when holding your glass under the table for him to pour some of the flask in. He then swiftly poured some into his glass under the table as well, then put the cap back on to give back to Ominis.

“If anyone suspects anything, you and I had a fight and didn’t speak to each other at all tonight.” Ominis slid the flask back into his coat and left to join Isaac Cooper’s side.

“Bet I can get it down smoother than you can.” You teased, holding up your glass to cheers with his.

“Can you now?” Sebastian brought up his glass, clinking it with yours. You linked your arm with his and then brought the glass to your lips. He did the same, and you two chugged, keeping your eyes locked.

The both of you handled it about the same, faces only contorting marginally at the dreadful taste. It wasn’t much, but downing it as you both had could get you a slight buzz.

“Do this often, do you?” You and Sebastian released each other, setting down your glasses and standing.

“I had a life before Hogwarts, believe it or not.” You chuckled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back out towards the dance floor.

The musicians shifted the tone from elegant waltzing music to exhilarant jig music, a vocalist joining in to sing some well known shanties. You and Sebastian joined in the crowd of students, singing and swaying along.

With the buzz still warm on your cheeks as you stood side by side in the crowd, he threw an arm around you. You gladly wrapped an arm around him as well, reaching your other hand up to hold onto his on your shoulder. This was one of the greatest nights of his life.

Both you and Sebastian were exhausted. Try as you might, you couldn’t stay any longer. You were both worn thin, your night had been incredible.

“Ow.” You whined groggily, resting a hand on the nearest wall.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian shrugged on his coat then put a hand on your shoulder, looking you up and down in concern.

“My shoes are brand new and I didn’t break them in before tonight. My feet are killing me.” You laughed.

A smirk formed on his face as an idea popped in his head. He moved in front of you and bent his knees slightly. He gestured with his head towards his back. “Up you go.�� He said.

Your eyes widened slightly as you stared at him, amused. Then, without another word, you hopped on his back, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Where to?” He asked as he gripped your thighs and walked on easily.

Holding on tight, you remembered you had a few magical beasts to feed and brush before bed.

As Sebastian carried you to the room of requirement, he was feeling bubble headed in the best way. He hitched you up higher, more out of his bustling nerves than feeling like he didn’t have a good enough hold on you. You rested your cheek against the side of his head, and he didn’t care if you could feel his cheeky grin about it or not.

The two of you arrived all too soon even though you took the long way, avoiding taking any floos. Sebastian was beyond disappointed the door didn’t show up, he was hoping this time would be different when you said it never showed up when someone else was with you. He may not have known exactly what the two of you would do in there, but you would be alone, with no chance of anyone else bothering you. A big part of it would have been validation he wasn’t just anyone you’d brought around. He wanted to be someone special, the only one the room felt worthy to let in with you.

“I suppose this is where I leave you.” He began sheepishly, letting you down gently from his back. You looked delightedly at one another and he ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I had a really great time tonight.”

Your insides went into a tizzy. “Me too.” You beamed at him. You didn’t want to end this night or part ways with him. “So I uh - I know it’s late, are you sure you still want to help me tomorrow morning? I understand if you’d rather sleep in.” You didn’t doubt he would come with you the next day, you just wanted to hear him tell you he wouldn’t miss it.

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll be there.” He unknowingly took a step towards you, the two of you drifting closer without thinking.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling like a dope. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

You two stood in coy silence for a moment, wanting the other to say something, anything to keep your night going a bit longer. “Well, I should get going so the room can appear for you, shouldn’t I?” He chuckled awkwardly, still not making any sort of move to take his leave.

“Ah, right.” You nodded your head, glancing briefly at the wall then looking back at him. You went in to hug him goodbye and he didn’t hesitate to hug you back. You held each other firmly in each other’s arms for a few seconds, then let go, smiles still painfully plastered on your faces. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You told him.

“Bright and early.” He assured.

“Bright and early.” You repeated, no longer caring if you looked like a flushing mess. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The two of you looked at each other for another moment, staying in place and becoming jumpy. You both went in for another hug, holding each other closer and longer this time, letting each other’s warmth envelope you. He took in your scent as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

“Goodnight.” He said again in a whisper.

You released each other, your faces temptingly close for a brief moment until you stepped back. He remained facing you as he started taking small, reluctant steps backwards to leave.

He watched as the smile faded from your face and you eyed him as if you were dispirited he was leaving. He stopped in his tracks, and a starved look took over your features. He was sure his face was doing the exact same thing.

You launched at one another, fusing your lips together. It was such a dizzying collision, the two of you weren’t really aware of where your hands were. The only thing that was clear was that they were on each other, holding the other close while roaming all over. Somehow, Sebastian had gotten you pressed up against the wall. He needed help keeping upright while his mouth moved in earnest, gasping and sighing along with yours.

Sebastian Sallow’s weight against you was something you never knew you needed. You bit at his bottom lip and sucked, hoping that would keep him anchored to you. A deep, muffled “mmh” noise escaped him and it was the most intoxicating sound.

He pulled back slightly to look at you then, eyes going over your features as he caught his breath. He couldn’t help but drag his fingers lightly down your cheek as you looked back at him, just as breathless.

He returned his lips to yours, taking it sweet and slow then. This time, he didn’t want to be dizzy, he wanted to be sturdy and in his right mind tasting you. Your hands felt so soft as they cupped his neck. A tingling sensation went down his spine when they slowly slid up to the back of his head, fingers running through his hair.

You were so lost in one another, that if anyone were to walk by you’d have no idea, no sense to pull away anyway.

Sebastian walked down to the Slytherin common room in a whimsical haze, humming each one of the songs he danced with you to that night. His lips felt swollen from all your kisses, it was wonderful.

His dreamy state came to an abrupt end when he found Garreth pacing frantically in front of the Slytherin Common room. The red head looked up at his arrival and his eyes went wide.

“There you are!” Garreth strode up to him and Sebastian got in a readied stance with his feet. “Where were you?! I saw you two leave and the way you were looking at each other all night and - Oh please tell me you didn’t do anything.”

Sebastian avoided his gaze. He didn’t feel for a second that Garreth should be with you instead, but damn him if he didn’t feel a little sorry for the poor fool.

“Sallow?” Garreth felt like he was going to be sick, but he held out the tiniest bit of hope. If Sebastian said nothing happened between you two, he’d run with it and never look back.

Man up and tell it to him straight. Sebastian took a deep breath and lifted his chin, physically and mentally preparing to get punched, he’d let Weasley have that much. “We kissed. We’re going to start seeing each other.”

Garreth’s eyes went wild, and he let out an incredulous guffaw. “Are you now? Well that’s just brilliant, isn’t it?!” It wasn’t really directed at him, Sebastian noticed. Garreth began pacing back and forth, looking as if he was going mad. “Why in Merlin’s name did I listen to that knobhead?! Hey Northcott, did you know spending time with someone and treating them right works? Who would have guessed?!” He looked back at Sebastian then, he clenched his hand into a fist like he was going to deck him. “I ought to bash your face in, Sallow. But right now, I’m more itching to have a word with Northcott. Best watch your back, I’m not done with you.”

Sebastian released the breath he was holding as Garreth stormed off. He could take him in a duel no problem, but he’d better keep a close eye on his food and drinks for a while.

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